Taking Off
by louicorn
Summary: Santana's 30,000 feet in the air, and she's falling hard.
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

_Part I_

* * *

><p><strong>17:00<strong>

"Here, let me get that for you," Santana offered.

The blonde woman glanced at Santana and flashed her a weak smile. "I'm fine," she insisted.

For a few moments, Santana raised her eyebrows dubiously as she watched the woman struggle with her too large duffel bag. It was quite…endearing, Santana had to admit. See, it wasn't that the blonde was short. In fact, she was definitely taller than Santana, but, unlike Santana, she wasn't wearing 3-inch heels for this 12-hour flight.

Chuckling, Santana stepped up to the blonde and easily helped her push her bag into the overhead compartment. "See? Wasn't that easy?" Santana asked with an amused grin.

The woman nodded as a small smile graced her lips. "Thank you." Then, as if realizing something, she looked down the aisle behind her and whirled back to face Santana. "Oh, gosh, I'm in your way, aren't I?" Her eyebrows furrowed, and she quickly slid into her seat to allow Santana room.

Santana tilted her head and smirked. "Actually," she said, taking a seat right next to the woman, "I'm sitting right here."

The woman grinned back but didn't say anything more.

They studied each other for a few moments, both noticing right away the very different yet undeniable beauty before their eyes. Santana broke the silence first—sure, the blonde sure was pretty, but it wasn't like she hadn't seen better. With a smug grin, she extended her hand. "Santana," she told the woman.

The woman smiled back flirtatiously as she slipped her hand into Santana's. "Quinn."

Santana shook Quinn's hand a few times while barely caressing the back of Quinn's hand with her thumb. Even after the handshake, Santana didn't let go. "That's a very pretty name, Quinn," she said instead.

Quinn blushed, and Santana smiled even wider before finally releasing Quinn's hand.

"Thanks," Quinn said quietly. "That's very kind of you."

Santana almost laughed out loud at the comment. She was anything but kind. But when it came to attractive women like this one next to her, she wouldn't mind cutting back on an insult or two.

Santana wasn't going to deny it. She had it bad for blondes.

But blondes had it even worse for her.

* * *

><p><strong>17:30 <strong>

As everyone slowly drifted off to sleep around her, Santana was as wide awake as ever. With her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, she meticulously dragged her finger across the screen. _Just a little more…_ Her finger trembled in place.

It was so close she could taste it.

_C'mon now, it's your last bird. Focus, Santana. Focus._

When she felt a hand tap her shoulder, she almost jumped out of her seat. She briefly jerked her head up and caught a flash of blonde before she gazed devastatingly back at her iPhone. The bird had disappeared, but the pig remained.

"Fuuuccckkk," she groaned. Just like that, it was gone—her rare, rare chance to break her high score. You don't get to enter the world rankings of Angry Birds without turning a little obsessive.

A gentle voice interrupted her misery. "I'm sorry, Miss, but you'll have to turn that off now as we'll be taking off soon."

Santana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, _Miss_," Santana hissed through clenched teeth, "I don't think you understand the gravity of what just happened." After a moment of silence timed strategically for the words to sink in, Santana tore her eyes from her phone and bore them into the flight attendant at her side.

And then she faltered at the unexpected sight.

She felt her dark eyes relax at the hair that appeared even blonder now that she really looked at it. She felt her lips part dazedly as she took in the piercing blue eyes that gazed back at her with concern. At last, she felt herself gulp as her eyes ran down the woman's body—all the way from her pretty face to her ample chest to her narrow waist and finally down to her long, long legs.

The flight attendant tilted her head confusedly both in reaction to Santana's unnecessarily harsh words and to her sudden and obvious ogling. "No," the woman said slowly, "I don't understand."

Santana opened her mouth to speak but lost herself again in those damn blue eyes.

"Well, then," the flight attendant said unsurely, "if you need anything, just click this button." She gestured at the flight attendant call button on the remote control under Santana's television screen and waited for comprehension to dawn on the blank face.

Finally, Santana nodded.

The flight attendant smiled back weakly and quickly shuffled down the aisle once again.

Alright, let's be honest here. Santana totally checked the woman's ass out as she clicked her way down the narrow passageway in those heels and that tight skirt. In fact, Santana never appreciated a uniform more than she did then. She only wished she could see that beautiful blonde hair out of that tight bun it was in. She bet the woman's hair would be so silky and smooth, her fingers would just slide right through…

* * *

><p><strong>18:00<strong>

"Juice?"

Santana quickly looked up from her mini television screen at the sound of the voice. When the woman turned toward her, she sighed. Wrong flight attendant. Too…redheaded and too skinny. When she glanced back at her screen, the movie had already moved on to another scene, and she had no idea what was going on. With a frustrated huff, she tried rewinding the movie a little, but the stupid machine rewound way too much. After jamming at the remote a few more times, Santana gave up and slumped back into her uncomfortable economy class seat, the only kind she could afford as a meager grad student still struggling to pay off her college tuition debt.

The flight attendant with the tray of juice finally reached Santana. With a warm smile, she extended the tray toward her. "Juice?"

Santana only eyed her briefly before rolling her eyes. "No," Santana replied flatly, still a little bitter about the movie disruption.

Maybe Santana spoke too loudly or maybe her evil energy simply spreads beyond the intended victims, but a few heads immediately turned toward her. Already used to the attention, Santana merely looked at the curious passengers with bored eyes. That was, until she noticed the figure eyeing her from the other aisle.

It was the flight attendant from before. She shot Santana a mildly disapproving look before she continued offering the cups of juice on her tray to the other passengers.

Santana sighed. The woman probably thought she was a huge bitch by now. Which Santana was. But she didn't need to know that.

* * *

><p><strong>19:00<strong>

Since tossing and turning didn't work, Santana gave up on trying to sleep and instead decided to get up and stretch out her legs a little.

She walked all the way down her aisle to the end of the plane where there was a small space to stand next to the bathroom. A few people were waiting for their turns to go to the bathroom, and Santana couldn't help but severely judge all of them.

Sure it was a 12-hour flight, but that didn't mean you could look like shit. With a smirk, Santana ran her hand slowly through her hair, tousling it back to perfection. She didn't even need a mirror to know that she looked hot. She always looked hot.

Some members of the cabin crew were shuffling back and forth busily around her. On instinct, Santana inspected each and every one of them only to be disappointed by her observations. Weren't flight attendants supposed to be hot? What was up with _these_ flight attendants then? And where the hell was the hot one from before?

As if the universe knew exactly what she was thinking, the hot blonde attendant appeared right next to the big-nosed flight attendant Santana was scowling at. The blonde noticed Santana's disgusted face right away, and she frowned just the slightest bit. She turned to the brunette with the nose Santana apparently disapproved of and whispered something in her ear. The brunette nodded and quickly walked away.

For a second, Santana watched the woman attempt to speed walk with her short legs. Even with heels on, she was way shorter than Santana, making Santana briefly wonder if the woman's height was inadequate enough to legally make her a midget. Santana pursed her lips in thought. Probably, she decided at last.

The hot flight attendant had just fished three blankets out of the cabinet and was about to deliver them when Santana grabbed her wrist. Game on.

The flight attendant immediately spun around, gazing back at Santana with questioning blue eyes.

Santana smirked. "Hey," she drawled with a toss of her chin.

Furrowing her eyebrows, the woman asked, "Can I help you, Miss?"

"Why don't you ever come down my aisle anymore?" Santana teased.

The woman blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You only came down my aisle once," Santana explained. "When you ruined my game of Angry Birds, by the way," she added.

The flight attendant squinted her eyes even further.

"But I'll let it go this time 'cause you're pretty cute," Santana said with a suggestive smirk.

"I'm sorry," the woman replied harshly as she jerked her wrist out of Santana's hold, "but if you don't need anything, I'll be attending to other passengers now."

Santana flinched at the woman's bitter tone. Clearly not used to such a reaction to her natural Lopez charm, she simply stood still with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Contrary to her appearance, it seemed the flight attendant wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Mmm, Santana mused, all the better. The corners of her mouth slowly twitched up again into her usual smirk as she watched the flight attendant strut down the aisle. A hot, assertive blonde with the softest blue eyes that betrayed the innocence she still retained from her childhood… Santana nodded to herself once. She could work with that.


	2. Part 1: Chapter 2

**19:20**

As Santana slipped back into her seat, Quinn paused the movie on her screen and looked up.

"Hey," Santana said with a wink.

Quinn giggled. "You're back."

Smiling, Santana asked, "Missed me?"

Quinn silently shook her head in disbelief at Santana's boldness, but Santana noticed that the wide smile never left Quinn's face.

Santana chuckled at Quinn's reaction and gently nudged her elbow. "Oh, c'mon, you didn't?"

Quinn looked up and placed a hand on Santana's arm as she stifled her giggles. "Santana…"

Santana smiled. "You know I'm just teasing you."

"Oh, and you're very good at it," Quinn assured her with a raise of her eyebrows.

Santana smirked. She still got game. The flight attendant didn't know what she was missing. Shrugging nonchalantly, she said, "I try."

Quinn laughed and playfully swatted at Santana's arm. "Stop making me laugh like a madwoman, Santana!"

"Hey, hey, no hitting," Santana joked as she tried to fend off Quinn's attacks. After several attempts, she finally caught Quinn's wrist in her hands. "Behave yourself, Ms. Fabray," she mockingly scolded.

Quinn snorted. "I should say the same to you, Ms. Lopez."

"I'm _very_ well-behaved, thank you very—"

"Would you like the pasta or the beef with potatoes?" said a bored voice from behind Santana.

Santana twirled around and found herself leering at the hot attendant again. Quickly, she brought her eyes back up to meet those beautiful blue eyes she knew would be waiting for her and smiled. "The beef, please," she said as politely as possible.

The flight attendant nodded and moved to take out the appropriate meal when her eyes landed on Quinn's wrist and Santana's hand curled tightly around it.

Noticing the woman's line of sight, Santana hastily dropped Quinn's arm from her hands and placed her hands neatly in her lap instead.

"And how about you, Miss?" the flight attendant asked Quinn.

Quinn smiled knowingly at Santana before answering, "I'll have the same thing she's having."

The flight attendant flashed Quinn a tight-lipped smile as she reached for another tray. "Great."

"Any drinks for either of you?"

"Water's fine for me," Quinn said first.

After handing Quinn her water, she turned to Santana. "And what would you like, Miss?"

Santana grinned. "What would you like to serve me?" she asked coyly.

The flight attendant was not the least surprised by Santana's question. Yet, as professional as ever, she said, "I'm sorry?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Just order your drink, Santana," she sighed with a tinge of annoyance in her tone.

Despite Quinn's words, Santana's eyes never left the flight attendant. They stared at each other for a brief moment, Santana's sharp eyes softening with amusement and the other woman's gentle eyes hardening with a forced seriousness. "I'll have a cup of water as well, thanks," Santana finally said, immediately shattering the tension or whatever you call it—or, God forbid, _magic_. Santana shuddered just at the thought of it. Magic. Ew.

The woman handed the cup of water to Santana, and when Santana reached for it, her fingertips grazed the woman's in the most uncomfortable of ways. In fact, she felt goosebumps tingling all along her skin. Santana winced. It was kind of gross.

Pushing past her uneasiness, Santana held the cup more firmly in her hands and smirked when she caught a glimpse of the flight attendant's pink tinted ears. The indescribable weirdness washed away after that, and Santana returned to her cocky self in no time. "Thank you," Santana told the flight attendant with a nod of her head.

The woman cleared her throat and forced a smile in return. "Of course," she muttered as she briskly pushed the cart down to the next row.

Slowly, Santana took a sip of the water, her lips curling around the cup, while she watched the woman leave. Ah, would she ever tire of appreciating this woman's figure? Probably not.

"So are you always like this?"

Reluctantly, Santana tore her gaze from those ridiculously long legs and smiled at Quinn. "What do you mean?"

Quinn tilted her head, not buying Santana's confusion at all. "You know what I mean." She grinned. "_Friendly_, I guess you could say."

Santana smirked. "Well, yes. I _am_ always friendly."

"_Too_ friendly maybe."

"There's no such thing as too friendly," Santana said confidently.

Pursing her lips, Quinn replied, "Depends on who you ask."

"Well," Santana drawled, lowering her head, "I'm asking you." She flicked her eyes up to gaze at Quinn through her eyelashes. "Do you think," she whispered, "I'm being too friendly with you?"

Upon hearing the question, a small smile came to Quinn's lips. "I think you're being just the right amount of friendly."

* * *

><p><strong>20:20<strong>

As Santana reached the bathroom, she slowly turned around, noticing the unmistakable blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. "Hey, it's you again."

The flight attendant looked up at the voice and frowned at the familiar face. "Can I help you, Miss?"

"Start by not calling me 'Miss,' maybe," Santana said with a playful grin.

The woman sucked in a deep breath. "Well, I'll be going now. If you need anything, you can always talk to my coworkers."

"Wait, wait."

The woman spun around and blinked slowly, hiding her impatience not so well.

"Can you do me a _tiny_ favor, at least?" Santana asked with the cutest smile she could muster.

The flight attendant almost rolled her eyes but stopped herself just in time. "Yes?"

"Could you at least tell me your name?"

The woman knitted her eyebrows. "I don't see how that's necessary."

"Of course it's necessary."

"I'm sorry, but that's simply highly unprofessional."

"You know what would be unprofessional?" Santana grinned. "If I called you 'Hot Flight Attendant' all the time, _that_ would be unprofessional."

Santana continued when she received no reaction. "Because that's how I refer to you now," she explained. "You're 'Hot Flight Attendant.' And, as descriptive and accurate as that name is, I would much prefer it if I could call you by a real name."

The woman cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh, c'mon," Santana said with a shrug. She leaned against one of the walls and flashed the flight attendant an uncharacteristically kind smile reserved for circumstances exactly like this—pleading. "Don't be shy. I'm sure your name's just as pretty as you are."

"That's funny," the woman said with not a hint of a smile on her face, "but would you please excuse me now?"

"Wait a second!"

Since it was clear the woman wasn't planning to slow down, Santana smirked evilly to herself as she planned her next move. "Hot Flight Attendant!" she called loudly, causing several passengers to turn their way.

The woman spun around immediately and glared at Santana.

Santana shrugged, a smug grin plastered on her face.

When the woman had scurried her way back to Santana, Santana asked, "So? What is it?"

The woman closed her eyes in exasperation, but Santana persisted. "Hello?" Santana called, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I can't believe you're doing this," the woman hissed.

"You stopped calling me 'Miss,'" Santana pointed out with delight.

"Ugh."

"Name?"

"I will say it once, and we will never speak of this again."

Santana nodded. "Deal."

Heaving a huge sigh, the flight attendant muttered, "Mike Chang," and hurried away.

Santana opened her mouth to speak but was too late. "Mike Chang" had already sped down the passageway. She smiled to herself, reveling in the fact that the woman probably had no idea she was only adding fuel to Santana's fire.

Just as Santana was about to head into the bathroom, Hot Flight Attendant tossed a look over her shoulder and returned Santana's smirk.

Santana chuckled and shook her head lightly. The fire was burning harder than ever.


	3. Part 1: Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **OH, MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY to everyone who read the wrong Chapter 3. I posted the Chapter 3 to my other story "Challenge Accepted" by accident. Sorry! Here, have the right chapter this time. :)

* * *

><p><strong>21:00<strong>

"Are you ever actually in your seat?"

Shrugging, Santana continued strolling behind the flight attendant. "Sometimes."

"I have work to do, you know."

Santana smirked at the woman's unconvincing scowl. "When I asked you to stop calling me 'Miss,' I didn't mean for you to forget all your manners as well."

"Funny," she returned with a bitter laugh. "Didn't think you would know what manners are."

"Awww," Santana whined. "That hurts." She clutched at her chest dramatically as she grinned at the flight attendant.

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Just for the record, I have perfect manners," Santana said. "You, on the other hand…"

The woman sent Santana a pointed look. "Really, now?" she asked flatly.

Santana nodded. "Uh huh. See, I'm just trying to be friendly, and look how you treat me."

The flight attendant chuckled dryly. "So _that's_ what it means nowadays to be friendly."

"Of course." Santana frowned at the woman. "You didn't think I was _hitting_ on you or anything, did you?"

For once, the woman was stunned into speechlessness. "Well…"

"Because you're totally not my type," Santana explained with a smirk. "Hot, blonde, tall," she started listing with an increasingly disgusted look at each attribute. She gestured at the woman's legs and feigned a scowl. "I mean, look at those legs. They're abnormally long, and do I want to run my tongue all over them? Obviously not."

"That's a wonderful story," she replied, her calm tone not exactly matching her pink cheeks. "And if you're done insulting my appearance, maybe you should return to your seat now."

"Oh, I'm far from done," Santana told her with a grin. "I could go on _all_ _day_ _long_."

"Fine," the woman sighed.

Santana widened her eyes, surprised to see Hot Flight Attendant give in for once. "Really?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Really," the flight attendant told her. "I actually have work to do this time, so excuse me, please."

She turned to walk the opposite direction after dumping the trash she had collected into a big trashcan, but Santana blocked her path. "Stop running away from me," Santana said. "I don't bite," she added with a wink.

The flight attendant glared at her.

"I mean," Santana said, raising her arms defensively, "unless you want me to."

"Oh, God," the woman groaned, smacking her palm onto her forehead.

Santana chuckled. "I'm _kidding_."

"Well, with this humor, you should be a comedian," the woman remarked sarcastically as she squeezed her way through.

Santana turned to face the flight attendant and boldly raised her hand to the woman's waist only to have the flight attendant swat her hand away quickly.

"Don't," the woman warned.

Santana would have returned with a snarky comment, but the close proximity of their bodies and the way the woman's breath brushed her face left her without words.

With their faces barely inches apart, it happened again. Their eyes locked, and Santana could feel the hairs standing on her skin. Out of panic, she broke from the eye contact first, coughing awkwardly as she stepped aside for the woman to pass through.

The flight attendant smoothed down her blouse and skirt and tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. With one last brief glance at Santana, she hurried away.

* * *

><p><strong>21:30<strong>

Santana sat in her seat with a pout on her face. When she wanted something, she had to get it. And that included hot blonde flight attendants.

"I'm bored," she declared to Quinn who was reading a book, as elegant as ever.

Quinn slowly closed the book and looked up at Santana. "Well, what do you want to do?"

Santana shrugged. "I don't know. Wanna play some cards?"

"Sure," Quinn chuckled, more to humor Santana than anything.

"Cool," Santana said with a grin. "Let me ask for some." She waved her arm around impatiently, hoping that a flight attendant would see her—preferably the hot one, but what were the chances? With her luck at the moment (which was seriously lacking), the ugliest flight attendant on the plane would probably come to her service—or worse yet, a _man_. Ugh.

"How may I help you, Miss?" a bubbly voice asked.

Santana looked at the flight attendant by her side. On the bright side, it wasn't a man. But, as her luck would have it, it was even worse than having a man attend to her. Because there she was standing, the big-nosed midget Santana had seen earlier.

"Hi, Midg-Miss," Santana stuttered.

Quinn giggled and stepped in. "Could you get us some playing cards please?"

The midget nodded enthusiastically. "Of course."

"Thank you," Quinn beamed.

As the flight attendant walked away, Quinn raised her eyebrows at Santana.

"What?" Santana asked.

"Were you about to call her 'Midget'?" Quinn asked accusingly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "She _is_ freakishly short."

"Santana," Quinn scolded. "Her height is perfectly fine."

"And her nose…"

"Stop being ridiculous."

"I'm not!"

"I actually thought she was very pretty."

Santana blanched. "What?"

Quinn laughed as she patted Santana's shoulder reassuringly. "Calm down, Santana."

"Here you are," came that annoying high-pitched voice.

Santana glanced up at the midget flight attendant and frowned. Without another word of acknowledgement, she snatched the cards from her hands and immediately began to shuffle them.

Quinn leaned over Santana and smiled gratefully at the woman. "Thanks, sweetie," she said to the flight attendant, and Santana almost barfed.

The woman smiled sweetly back at Quinn and skipped away again.

"Alright, what are we playing?" Quinn asked.

"Spit," Santana said with a small smile at her lips.

"I _love_ that game," Quinn gushed.

"Me, too."

"My sister and I play it all the time."

Santana looked up from the cards. "You have a sister?"

"Mmhmm."

Santana nodded thoughtfully. "Ahh, you must be the prettier one, then," she finally concluded.

"Stop it," Quinn whined through her giggles.

Santana smirked. "I just can't stop myself," she teased.

"Do you have any siblings?" Quinn asked.

"Nope," she said as she returned to shuffling the cards.

"Your parents must spoil you then."

Santana shrugged. "I guess. We're not that close."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the only reason they haven't disowned me yet is that I stayed in school."

Quinn sent her a puzzled look.

"My dad's a doctor," Santana explained. "He and my mom are a little crazy about the whole education thing."

"Do you like it?" Quinn asked. "Learning and all that?"

"It's bearable. College was awesome, but I'm not sure I'm the scholar type exactly."

"You're in grad school now, right?"

"Yeah, I'm getting my master's degree the end of this year, so I don't know what's going to happen after that." Santana rolled her eyes. "They want me to get a PhD after this, of course."

Quinn shrugged. "Then do it."

Santana laughed lightly, although her heart was in fact much heavier. "Alright," she said, passing half the deck of cards to Quinn, "let's stop talking about my boring life and get this game on, huh?"

Quinn flashed Santana a mischievous as she lined up her cards. "Are you ready?"

"I was born ready," came Santana's reply and a wink added in just for good measure.

* * *

><p><strong>22:30<strong>

Quinn had drifted off to sleep once the lights had been dimmed. That sleepy head. Santana smiled at the curled body beside her. Not that Quinn was perfect or anything, but she was definitely less annoying than most girls Santana knew. Quinn had this quiet poise about her. It was a nice change from Santana's usual high-maintenance female "friends" to say the least.

With a tired sigh (Santana seemed to have a problem sleeping on this plane), she pulled the blanket off her legs and draped it over Quinn's sleeping body. She did this with a hesitance highly uncharacteristic of her. Santana was born blessed with a confidence others took years to build, but flirting was one thing; caring about people was another.

As far as she knew, draping blankets over sleeping bodies was definitely a sign of care. But oh, what did Santana know about things such as caring for people? She had neither truly cared for someone nor been cared for by anyone. But who knows? Maybe, one day, someone would be draping a blanket over her sleeping body, too.

When she heard some footsteps coming her way, Santana poked her head into the aisle and saw a familiar face. The heavy thoughts drifted from her mind as her lips tugged into its usual smirk, though her eyes…it was hard to force a glimmer into them.

The flight attendant acted as if she was unaware of Santana's watching her and moved purposely down the aisle with a folding wheelchair to a passenger several rows ahead of Santana. "Hey!" Santana called softly to her. Receiving no response, she tried again. "I know you can hear me!"

The flight attendant continued talking to the passenger, smiling sweetly with patience she had never shown Santana.

Santana scoffed at this. "Hello?" she called out again, more annoyed this time. She rolled her eyes as the flight attendant helped the passenger into the wheelchair and pushed him to the bathroom, giggling at whatever lame joke he was telling her. He wasn't even good-looking, for God's sake. I mean, just look at those glasses. With a huff, Santana tried calling after them one last time. "Mike?" she joked.

"Yes?"

Santana spun around to the source of the voice. "Mike…Chang?" she said unsurely to the confused Asian male attendant, who was now slowly approaching her and checking her out not so subtly.

Mike nodded. "Do I…know you?"

"No…" Santana frowned at the weirdness of the situation and his wandering eyes before a brilliant idea struck her.

"Then how do you know my name?"

"Well, actually," Santana told him, "I asked your friend for it."

"Who?"

"Ah, her name escapes me this moment," she said, clutching her forehead and furrowing her eyebrows, "but I thought you were cute, so I asked about you, but she told me you were gay."

"What?" he exclaimed. "I'm not."

"Well, she probably thought it was funny or something. I don't know."

"Who is this again?"

"You know, the blonde flight attendant?"

"Umm…"

"The tall and hot one?"

"Oh! Brittany."

Santana smiled triumphantly. "Yes! Brittany…um…"

"Pierce. Susan Pierce."

"_Susan_?" Santana stifled a laugh as she imagined the endless taunting possibilities this rather embarrassing middle name gave her. "Well, anyway, yeah, I have no idea why she would ever try to ruin my chances with you…"

Mike frowned. "She has a weird sense of humor sometimes," he said after a second.

Santana smiled. "That's cute."

When Mike sent her a weird look, she quickly wiped that stupid grin off her face. "Anyway, I just saw her get all buddy-buddy with that kid on the wheelchair, so you know what would be hilarious?"

"Yeah?"

"If you told him she was gay."

Mike chuckled to himself. "Actually, that _would_ be kind of funny."

"Right? Get on with it now," Santana said, waving him off. She settled back in her chair and smirked to herself. Two birds, one stone.

And that's how we do it in Lima Heights Adjacent.


	4. Part 1: Chapter 4

**22:50**

"That took you a while," Santana muttered under her breath.

Brittany stopped in her tracks as she heard those quiet words. Seeing that most of the passengers around them were asleep, she whispered, "Excuse me?"

Santana gave her a bored look as she tipped her head in the direction of the boy in the wheelchair a few rows ahead. "Making new friends now, are we?"

Brittany squinted her eyes as she gazed down at the girl in her seat. "I was just helping Artie out," she countered.

"Right, _Artie_. Forgive me for not knowing that you two are on a first-name basis," Santana said sarcastically.

Frowning, Brittany asked, "Do you have a problem with it?"

Santana shrugged. Only that Brittany wouldn't even share her first name with Santana, and now here she was, already best friends with Stubble McCripple Pants.

Brittany waited another second for a smartass comment to come her way, but, when all Santana did was stare back at her blankly, Brittany relaxed her eyes. "He just needed some help getting to the bathroom," Brittany heard herself saying in a soft voice.

"And I guess there's something super hilarious about it judging by the way you two couldn't stop laughing the entire time," Santana said dryly.

"I was just being polite," Brittany explained for no reason at all.

"I see," Santana clipped as she gave her an unconvincing smile. "Well, you must be busy, and I've wasted enough of your time as it is."

When Brittany made no move to leave, Santana gestured down the aisle. "Don't worry," Santana reassured her with a half-hearted grin, "I won't be bothering you anymore."

Brittany took a deep breath, about to say something more, but Santana had already returned to her magazine.

"My name's not really Mike Chang," Brittany said in absolute seriousness.

Santana glanced up from her magazine, indifference written all over her face.

"It's—"

Santana raised her hand to stop her. "I'm really not interested."

Brittany nodded, biting her lip. "I understand." She nodded a few more times to herself as she watched Santana haphazardly flip through the magazine. At last, she shuffled away, far from as relieved as she should be.

Hearing the fading footsteps, Santana sighed at her magazine. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

She stole another longing glimpse over her shoulder and damn her weak will because her eyes went straight to Brittany's ass. Santana was pretty sure when you have a semi-end-of-friendship moment with someone, you're not supposed to check them out a nanosecond later, but her libido begged to differ.

And of course Brittany turned around right then, catching Santana in the act. Guiltily, Santana flicked her eyes up to Brittany's face again, but, instead of finding the usual death glare there, she was met with Brittany's twinkling blue eyes. Santana cracked a grin at her, which Brittany returned with a sly smile of her own.

Then, of all things, Brittany winked.

Instantly, Santana slammed back into her seat in surprise and let out a long whistle. When she heard a soft chuckle drift her way, a slow smile crept across her lips.

* * *

><p><strong>23:20<strong>

Santana immediately pulled off her headphones when she saw a hand splay across her mini television screen. Realizing that the hand belonged to Brittany, Santana smiled up at her.

Brittany, however, seemed to be a different person from the girl who winked at Santana not too long ago. She was now full-on glaring at Santana, much to Santana's confusion.

"Hi?" Santana said unsurely.

"What did you say to Artie?" Brittany demanded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"_Oh_." Santana couldn't help but snicker at the memory. "Well, technically, I didn't say anything to him."

"You told him I was gay!" Brittany exclaimed.

Raising her arms in surrender, Santana flinched away from Brittany, who—turned out—could be surprisingly scary. "I can explain—"

"I don't want your explanation," Brittany spat. "You are unbelievable."

"So I've been told," Santana said with an amused grin. "Although," she added, tapping her chin in thought, "people usually tell me that in bed…"

"Oh, my God." Brittany pinched her nose in annoyance. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Actually, I'm not," Santana pointed out matter-of-factly. "I'd like to say it's pure talent, but I _have_ had a lot of practice," she mused.

"Just...stop," Brittany said, shaking her head in defeat. She unclenched her hand from the television screen and began walking away.

"Wait, don't go!" Santana called.

Brittany ignored her, having no more energy for this ridiculous banter any longer.

"Wait, come back," Santana tried again. "Brittany!"

Brittany froze in place. Slowly, she turned around, narrowing her eyes at Santana with suspicion.

Santana chuckled. "Come back over here, Brittany."

Reluctantly, Brittany began taking cautious steps toward Santana. "How…?"

"What are you trying to ask, Brittany?" Santana asked smugly, finding too much delight in saying that name. "Or should I say…Brittany Susan Pierce?"

Brittany gasped, only adding to Santana's growing amusement.

"You!" Brittany called out, pointing an accusing finger at Santana.

Santana blinked in feigned innocence. "Me?"

Brittany clenched her teeth, frustrated that she had no comeback at all.

"Alright, now, calm down, Britts," Santana teased.

Brittany scowled even harder, miffed that Santana had simply taken the liberty of using such an affectionate nickname for her. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Yes?" Santana asked, rubbing it in even further.

Seeing no other option, Brittany spun around and stormed away, but Santana quickly caught up.

"Wait up, Brittany," she said, tugging on Brittany's arm.

Brittany tried to fling her hand off, but Santana only gripped on tighter and pulled Brittany around to face her.

"What?" Brittany snapped.

Santana looked away for a second before gazing into Brittany's eyes again. And there it was. That zap. That buzz. That tingle.

Both of them jumped away from each other right away, as if that sensation were toxic. They never broke eye contact, eyes wide with surprise and confusion and a little something else.

Brittany recovered first as she self-righteously twirled around and marched away, leaving Santana more flustered than she would like to admit.


	5. Part 1: Chapter 5

**23:50**

Quinn shifted in her seat and let out a deep sigh.

Hearing the rustling noises beside her, Santana cast Quinn a sideways glance and grinned. There was just something so endearing about sleeping people. Not to mention it seemed impossible for Quinn to ever look less than perfect because here she was, hair tousled perfectly, lips curled into a subtle smile, and not a drop of drool in sight.

Slowly, Quinn's eyes fluttered open. Seeing Santana watching her, she responded with a lazy smile, still blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"You're up," Santana said in a soft voice.

"Mmm." Quinn raised a finger to her eye and rubbed at it. "Hi," she mumbled.

"Hey," Santana said with a smile.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I was just about to."

Quinn nodded. "Get some sleep," she murmured. "I'm going back to sleep again, too." She dragged the blanket up to her chin without a second thought when she paused. Frowning, she stared at the blanket, clearly trying to remember where it came from.

Santana chuckled. "Good night, Quinn," she said, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Quinn glanced up at Santana with questioning hazel eyes. She wasn't offended or anything, simply confused.

Santana shrugged. She wasn't quite sure why she did it either. All she knew was that she felt oddly protective of Quinn even though she only knew her for seven hours. There was just something about Quinn that made Santana so at ease. It was gross that this was even crossing her mind, but she could definitely see Quinn in her life…somehow.

With a raised eyebrow, Quinn grinned and closed her eyes again, snuggling back into her stuffy seat.

Santana took a deep breath and let her body sink into her seat as well, the toll of all the traveling finally getting to her. With a couple more deep breaths, she gradually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>00:15<strong>

Hearing some shuffling noises, Santana woke up a little and quickly rolled to the other side of her body in an attempt to find that perfect position again. The noises continued, and, when Santana felt someone hovering over her, she blinked her eyes open for a second before her heavy eyelids fell shut again.

All she caught was a flash of blonde before sleep consumed her once more.

* * *

><p><strong>00:45<strong>

As Santana brought her hand up to scratch an itch on her forehead, she noticed through her half-lidded eyes that Quinn was already up and watching a movie.

It was when she straightened up in her chair with a yawn that she felt the blanket wrapped around her body. No wonder she felt so cozy the entire time. Having no memory of how the blanket got there, she looked down at the blanket and tilted her head at Quinn.

Quinn only smiled back down at her before turning to her movie again.

Santana tugged the blanket tighter against her chest and smiled to herself at Quinn's confirmation.

* * *

><p><strong>1:15<strong>

"Hey, I was just looking for you," Santana said with a typical grin of hers.

Brittany continued her cabin check, opening the bathroom door along the way to check that the smoke detector hadn't gone off. "Really?" she asked flatly.

Santana nodded. "Yup. I missed you, you know," she told her, nudging Brittany's shoulder.

"Hm." Brittany shuffled down the aisle, glancing at the overhead compartments to make sure they were all closed properly. "Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"How did you know I was sleeping?" Santana asked.

"People _do_ usually sleep on planes," Brittany remarked.

Santana smirked. "Well, aren't you smart?"

Brittany rolled her eyes.

"So, um, you aren't still mad about that _Artie_ thing, are you?" Santana asked, stressing the name "Artie" like it was the most ridiculous word in the world.

"And what if I am?"

"Then…" Santana pursed her lips, conflicted. "Then…I'm sorry."

Brittany spun around, eyes wide. "Really?" she asked excitedly.

"Nah," Santana said with a shrug.

"Ugh."

"Oh, c'mon, I'm just _playing_ with you." Santana tapped at Brittany's hand with her own but got no response. Brittany simply let her hand hang by her side as she paced down the aisle.

With a few more taps and a wiggle of Santana's fingers, their two hands were positioned just right that their fingers slipped smoothly through one another's.

Immediately, Santana glanced up at Brittany with a cheeky grin, and Brittany peeked at Santana over her shoulder, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

Fingers intertwined, they continued their way down the plane until they reached a curtained-off area. Brittany pulled the curtains aside and stepped in, letting Santana's hand slip away as Santana stood in place, unsure of her next move.

Brittany turned around and raised her arms at Santana. "Are you coming or not?"

Santana broke into a wide smile and nodded, gladly following Brittany into what appeared to be a rest area. "You know, there are so many dirty 'coming' jokes in my head right now, I don't even know which one to use," she confessed.

Brittany sat down at one of the benches and gave Santana a pointed look. "None of them."

Santana shrugged. "Your loss." She looked around at the cushioned benches. "So…is this, like, where flight attendants chill and stuff?"

"Uh huh."

"So this is like the equivalent of the on-call room in _Grey's Anatomy_?"

Brittany frowned, never having watched the show but knew that Santana was referring to hospital on-call rooms. "I…guess so?"

"Wanky," Santana said with a smirk, nodding in approval.

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows, still confused by Santana's behavior.

"So," Santana began, gesturing at all the benches around them and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, "where do you usually like it?"

"What?"

"To get it on," Santana explained.

"Ugh! Gross!" Brittany exclaimed, raising her hands to signal for Santana to stop.

"Do you even watch _Grey's Anatomy_?" Santana asked, totally unaffected by Brittany's repulsion.

"What?"

"Never mind," Santana sighed. "Got anything to eat?" she asked after a second.

Brittany threw a pack of peanuts at Santana. "Peanuts?"

"Damn, Brittany, now you're just asking for a peanuts joke."

"No, no, no," Brittany replied quickly, snatching the snack from Santana's hands. "I'm not. Don't tell a peanuts joke."

"Fine."

The two of them sat in another bout of awkward silence when Brittany spoke up again. "Tell me about yourself. You know enough about me already," she said. "For God's sake, you even know my middle name," she added with an eye roll.

Santana chuckled. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, do you have a job?"

"Nope. I'm still in grad school, getting my master's degree."

Brittany smiled. "So you're smart."

Santana shrugged. "Meh."

"Oh, c'mon, you _are_ smart." Brittany's smile disappeared after a while, and she sighed. "But me? I barely got my way through college, not to mention _grad_ school."

"_I _think you're smart," Santana said, squeezing Brittany's knee gently. When she realized what she was doing and that Brittany was probably going to freak out just as she did every other time Santana touched her, Santana snatched her hand away.

But Brittany stopped her, placing a hand over Santana's to keep her hand in place. "And do you like grad school?" she asked, as if the whole hand-touching-knee thing wasn't happening.

Santana smiled, finding it slightly humorous that she had this exact conversation not so long ago with Quinn, but she continued on anyway. "I'm not that big on school and stuff, but my parents are, so…"

"Then what do _you_ love to do?" Brittany asked, staring deep in Santana's eyes, almost as if she were searching for the answer right then and there.

Santana felt a chill run down her spine with Brittany looking at her like that. "What?" she squeaked, not used to people asking her what _she_ wanted to do. Even Quinn didn't ask her that.

"What do you love to do?" Brittany asked again.

"I…don't know."

"Do you want to go to school anymore?"

"Well, I'll probably still get my master's degree first, but I really don't want to get a PhD or whatever crazy shit my parents want for me."

Brittany smiled. "Then don't."

"You make it sound so easy," Santana said, smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"It is."

Santana chuckled and nodded slowly in agreement. "It is, isn't it?"

Brittany nodded. "Absolutely."

"See? You _are_ smart," Santana told Brittany as she rubbed lightly at Brittany's knee.

Brittany grinned. "And you are actually a decent human being."

"Aww, Britt-Britt, you're breaking my heart."

Brittany giggled. "Say that again."

"What?"

"My name."

"Brittany?" Santana asked teasingly.

"No…"

"Britts?"

"Stop acting like you don't know."

"Okay, okay…" Santana turned to face Brittany fully and smiled. "Britt-Britt."


	6. Part 1: Chapter 6

**1:45**

"Wait, don't go…"

Smiling at Santana, Brittany squirmed her arm out of Santana's grasp. "I have to," she said.

Santana frowned. "But…"

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Fine," Santana sighed.

Brittany flashed her a sweet smile as she slowly backed away from Santana, making sure to never break eye contact.

Santana grinned and waved back, wiggling her fingers flirtatiously.

"Bye—" Brittany paused and tilted her head to one side. It was so fucking adorable Santana wanted to die. "I don't even know your name," Brittany said.

"You never told me your name either," Santana replied coyly.

Brittany pouted. "But…"

"Well," Santana quickly interrupted, finding Brittany's pout too heartbreaking to bear, "you did tell me it was 'Mike Chang.'"

"Exactly!" Brittany said with a determined nod.

Santana chuckled at Brittany's reaction. Crossing her arms, she joked, "If your name's Mike Chang, then my name is Quinn Fabray." She smirked at Brittany, waiting eagerly for another cute response from Brittany at her using the least Hispanic-sounding name she could think of.

Much to Santana's surprise, Brittany simply nodded with a tiny smile and skipped away.

"Britt…" Santana trailed off when Brittany disappeared down the aisle. After a moment, she shrugged to herself and made her way back to her seat. It was hard to understand Brittany sometimes.

Only she didn't expect to see Midget McManhands blocking her way. As she neared an animatedly chatting Quinn, Santana cleared her throat loudly, causing both Quinn and the big-nosed flight attendant to turn toward her in surprise.

"Well, I should probably go now," the midget told Quinn.

Frowning slightly, Quinn said, "Okay."

Santana tapped her foot impatiently as she watched the two women spare longing glances at each other. She wanted to barf. When the midget finally tore her gaze from Quinn and left, Santana plopped down onto her seat with a giant sigh.

Quinn cast her a sideways glance. "What?" she snapped.

"You've blinded me, Quinn. That's what."

Narrowing her eyes at Santana, Quinn asked, "Are you _jealous_, Santana?"

Immediately, Santana's cheeks flushed a deep red. "_No_," she insisted.

Quinn smirked. "Hmmm."

"God, Quinn," Santana muttered. "I'm not _jealous_; I just think you…deserve better."

Laughing, Quinn said, "Just relax, Santana. I find Rachel attractive; that's all."

* * *

><p><strong>1:55<strong>

"Brittany, it's honestly nothing. I merely find her to be quite attractive."

Brittany snickered. "In other words, you have a huge crush on her."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel let that thought settle in for a moment before nodding reluctantly. "Fine," she said at last, "but I don't even know if she feels the same way."

"From what you've told me, it seems like she is," Brittany noted. "If that's not flirting, I don't know what is."

"I'll most likely never see her again after this plane lands anyway," Rachel sighed.

Brittany shrugged. "You never know," she said wistfully.

Rachel grinned back at her. "And how about you, Ms. Brittany?" she teased. "Have you finally given in to that ridiculously annoying but equally as hot passenger?"

Brittany couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. "Maybe."

"I think that's wonderful," Rachel replied with a chipper smile.

"Alright, now, don't change the topic." Brittany arched an eyebrow at Rachel. "What's this mysterious girl's name?"

Rachel smiled down at her feet before mumbling, "Quinn."

Brittany was still grinning goofily when the name hit her. "Wait, _what_?"

Rachel looked up at her confusedly. "What?"

"What's her name?" Brittany asked again.

"Quinn?" Rachel replied unsurely.

Brittany's frown deepened. "Quinn in row 54?"

"How did you know that?" Rachel asked, jerking her head back in surprise.

The next thing Rachel knew, she was standing alone watching Brittany storm angrily away…in the direction of row 54.

* * *

><p><strong>2:10<strong>

Brittany stalked over to Santana and glared down at her. "Please come this way, Miss," she hissed.

Santana looked around confusedly. "What's going on, Brittany?"

"_Miss_," Brittany seethed through her teeth.

Quickly unbuckling her seatbelt, Santana got up and followed Brittany down the aisle to the semi-private space next to the bathroom.

"Are you okay, Brittany?" she asked.

"Just stop with all the acting," Brittany said firmly.

"What acting?"

"Acting like you actually _like_ me," Brittany scoffed. "Or maybe I was just confused."

Santana frowned. "I _do_ like you, Britt."

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"God, why are you still pretending? I know I'm just one of your little games, okay?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"Fine. What about Rachel then?"

"Rachel?" Santana furrowed her eyebrows. "Rachel who?"

"Rachel, my good friend. Rachel, the girl I work with—"

"You mean Manhands?" Santana asked as she connected the dots.

"What?"

"The midget?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Quinn?"

And then Santana laughed so loudly, Brittany wanted to slap her. But before Brittany even had time to raise her hand, Santana had already slammed her against the wall and pushed her lips forcefully onto Brittany's.

When the initial shock dissipated, Brittany let out a muffled sound of protest and thudded uselessly at Santana's shoulders.

At last, Santana pulled away but only for the reason that Brittany wasn't kissing back.

"Quinn!" Brittany yelled, wiping hastily at her lips. "What is wrong with you?"

"Brittany," Santana chuckled, "my name's not Quinn."

"What?" Brittany panted as she tried to catch her breath.

"I was just kidding with you. I thought you knew." Santana smirked. "Do I really look like a Quinn Fabray to you?"

"I mean…"

"Quinn's the girl who sits next to me."

"Then…what's your real name?"

"Santana," she told her. "Santana Lopez."

"Oh." Brittany's features relaxed considerably at the new information. Slowly, she lifted her hand to her lips and let her fingers feel the swollenness. "And what was this all about?"

Santana grinned. "Don't tell me you didn't like it," she said flirtatiously as she ran her finger up Brittany's arm.

"I, um—"

"It's just so fucking hot when you're all angry and stuff," Santana remarked, edging closer to Brittany and gently laying her hand on Brittany's waist.

Backed up against the wall, Brittany could only gulp and look down into Santana's dark eyes.

"Just watching you get all worked up and jealous," Santana added in an extra throaty voice.

Brittany licked her lips nervously, realizing too late that that was probably a bad move, considering how Santana eyed her glistening lips hungrily. "Umm…"

Before Brittany could get another word out, Santana's lips were already back on hers, sucking hard and desperately.

Brittany let out a tiny whimper and pushed weakly at Santana's shoulders. Santana barely backed away at all, letting her lips brush Brittany's as she waited for Brittany to speak. "What?" she husked.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Santana," Brittany whispered back, her whole body tingling with desire as she felt her lips graze over Santana's.

"You're thinking too much," Santana told her, already pressing her lips back onto Brittany's.

Brittany kissed back right away but nudged Santana away again after a short moment. "People can see us," she objected unconvincingly.

"Hmmm," Santana drawled, letting her lips sweep gently across Brittany's cheek to her neck, where she nibbled and sucked, "then we'll have to find a place where people won't see us, won't we?" She tightened her grip on Brittany's waist and began rubbing light circles with her thumb, evoking a deep moan from Brittany that sent a ripple of desire through Santana's body.

"Tell me you want this," Santana mumbled into Brittany's neck, and it was so much more than just dirty talk. As she continued licking at Brittany's neck, she realized that she needed Brittany's confirmation more than she had thought she would. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her body was tingling at every nerve, and her hands were aching to feel Brittany for the first time.

"Santana," Brittany gasped as she threw her head back and slapped her hands against the wall behind her, unknowingly clenching her fingers.

"Tell me, Brittany," Santana repeated in a low voice. Her hands slid up to cup Brittany's face, and she reluctantly pulled away from Brittany's neck to stare into her eyes. "Britt?" she breathed, using her eyes to convey the weight of the question.

Brittany bit her lip as she entangled her fingers into Santana's hair. Gazing into a pair of irresistible, dark brown eyes, Brittany nodded.


	7. Part 1: Chapter 7

**2:25**

A smirk slowly made its way across Santana's lips as she pulled Brittany's face down to hers. "Good girl," she whispered into Brittany's lips. To emphasize her point, she ran her hand down Brittany's side and squeezed roughly at her ass.

When Santana felt Brittany shudder under her touch, she chuckled and covered Brittany's mouth with her own. Even as she was busy tugging Brittany's bottom lip between her teeth, she managed to grab two handfuls of Brittany's blouse and pulled Brittany with her as she backed up to the bathroom.

The folding door opened easily under the weight of her back as she dragged Brittany inside the small bathroom with her and swiftly slid the lock in place. There was barely any room for the two of them, making their bodies mold tightly into each other with Brittany, flushed and breathless, pressed against the door.

Without wasting another second, Santana latched her lips onto Brittany's collarbone while her hands roamed the lean body before her. Brittany flung her hands to Santana's head and moaned loudly when Santana's hands covered her breasts. Santana glanced up from Brittany's heaving chest and smirked. "Shhh," she whispered, slithering her lips up to Brittany's and silencing her with a rough kiss. "These walls aren't soundproof, Britt," she reminded her.

Brittany gave a weak whimper of acknowledgement as Santana returned to her task, kneading Brittany's breasts firmly with her hands and loving the feel of Brittany's hard nipples through the fabric in her palms. Gazing hungrily down at her busy hands, Santana gulped and rasped, "I'm going to take your top off, okay?"

Brittany sighed and nodded, breathing too heavily to form any coherent words. Santana's hands flew to the buttons on Brittany's blouse, hurriedly undoing each one. "Fuck," Santana muttered as she fumbled with a particularly difficult button.

"Take it off," Brittany panted, glancing lazily down at Santana's troubled yet aroused face.

"I know… This button's just fucking stuck," she seethed. With another frustrated groan, Santana mumbled, "Fuck it," and ripped the blouse open.

Brittany gasped in surprise, watching the button pop off and fall to the ground. Santana glanced at it and shrugged. "Oops," she said unapologetically.

Before Brittany could scold Santana for ruining her uniform, Santana had already unclasped her bra, exposing Brittany's full, pale breasts. Santana's lips were all over them in a flash, kissing and licking but always avoiding the stiff nipples that begged for attention.

"Mmm," Brittany hummed, jutting her chest out and rubbing her thighs together to relieve some of the tension.

Santana immediately held down Brittany's legs. "Hey, hey," she interrupted, lightly smacking Brittany's thighs, "don't get started without me."

"Then stop teasing," Brittany whined.

Santana sighed but gave in. She left a quick kiss on Brittany's right breast before brushing the erect nipple with the very tip of her tongue. Brittany moaned for more, but Santana simply continued toying with her breasts, leaving brief flicks of her tongue here and there.

Finally, Brittany hissed, "_Santana_." Only then did Santana lick firmly at Brittany's nipples, alternating between long slow strokes and light flutters. After what seemed like an endless amount of teasing and a swirl of her tongue around Brittany's nipple, Santana closed her lips on it at last. Then she sucked so hard it would have been painful under any other circumstances. At that moment, though, it only made Brittany cry out in approval.

While nibbling at the taut nipple, Santana quickly held a finger up to Brittany's lips to remind her to quiet down. Either Brittany didn't get the message or simply neglected to acknowledge it because she immediately sucked Santana's finger into her mouth, running her tongue all along the flesh and biting down gently with her teeth.

Santana groaned into Brittany's chest at the feeling of the hot, wet tongue gripping at her finger. Finding the sensations all too distracting from her current task, she swiftly pulled her wet finger from Brittany's lips and brought it down to Brittany's other breast, rubbing hard and fast at the untouched nipple. The flesh puckered up in no time, and, satisfied, Santana detached Brittany's breast from her mouth with a plop and stood up straight.

Brittany looked all kinds of flustered sprawled against the wall like that—pink cheeks, loose strands of blonde hair framing her face, drops of sweat dotting her nose over those adorable freckles. Santana smiled at Brittany, earning a confused and impatient look of arousal in return.

Knowing very well what Brittany wanted and what she herself needed, Santana leaned in and kissed Brittany sweetly as she grasped onto Brittany's hips and nudged her toward the sink. With Brittany leaning against the counter next to the sink, Santana slipped her hands under Brittany's thighs and gave her a slight lift, pushing her into a sitting position onto the small surface. Her lips still on Brittany's, she massaged Brittany's toned thighs, stroking up and down until neither of them could take it anymore.

Giving in at last, Santana slid her hand up Brittany's thigh all the way until it hovered over Brittany's wet and waiting center. With a bite of her lip, Santana pressed her fingers into Brittany's sex, hissing when she felt the drenched fabric on her fingertips.

Brittany moaned at the sudden pressure, and she threw her head back, rocking her hips into Santana's hand.

"Let's get this off," Santana whispered, tugging impatiently at the zipper of Brittany's skirt before giving up altogether and simply bunching the skirt up around Brittany's waist. With Brittany's creamy thighs on full display, Santana took a deep breath, taking a moment to gaze intently at the alluring sight in front of her.

Gently, she placed her hands on Brittany's knees and slowly nudged her legs apart. Brittany stared at Santana through hooded eyes, licking her lips in anticipation of what Santana was about to do—and she had a good idea of what it was, judging by the ravenous look in Santana's eyes as she ogled the throbbing place between Brittany's legs.

Gingerly, she hooked her fingers into Brittany's panties and dragged them down her legs inch by inch. Santana made a point to keep her eyes on the path of the panties, saving the best, most mouthwatering sight for last. She slipped the panties off Brittany's feet and pulled it up to her nose, inhaling the dark, musky smell of Brittany for the first time.

Santana's eyes bore into Brittany's as she memorized her scent, and she could tell Brittany enjoyed what was happening as much as she was. Not one to disappoint, she poked her tongue out of her full lips and took a tentative lick of the wetness on the panties.

Brittany grunted, and it only edged Santana on. She took a bolder lick this time, growling in approval at the strong taste swirling in her mouth.

"Santana," Brittany sighed, reaching out and snatching the panties out of Santana's hands, "can you just…"

"Y-yeah," Santana stuttered, finding Brittany's sudden assertiveness ridiculously hot. "I, um—"

"_Santana_."

Instantly, Santana dropped down onto her knees.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sexy times part 2 or no?


	8. Part 1: Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Rating changed to M!

* * *

><p><strong>2:35<strong>

"Fuck." Santana stayed kneeling between Brittany's spread thighs, mesmerized by the sight just inches from her face. She could smell Brittany already, and it made the insides of her body shiver in anticipation.

"Britt…," Santana breathed, slowly bringing her fingers to Brittany's core. She brushed her fingertips across the glistening slit and grunted at the slipperiness. "You're so wet," she said with a bite of her lip.

Brittany moaned, and Santana smirked up at her. "Feel it," Santana husked, reaching for Brittany's hand and guiding it down to her center. She swiped two of Brittany's fingers along her entrance, stroking back and forth a couple of times before sliding Brittany's fingers up to her clit and pressing down.

Brittany gasped at the sensation of her fingers working against herself with Santana's aid. Somehow, having Santana use Brittany's fingers instead of her own made everything so much hotter.

"You feel it, don't you?" Santana chuckled while trying to ingrain in her memory forever the expression gracing Brittany's face right then.

Brittany nodded rapidly, letting out little whimpers now and then.

"Good," Santana said with a smirk. When she dragged Brittany's fingers away from her sex, Brittany whined in desperation, but her whines soon turned into those of pleasure as she watched Santana greedily suck her wet fingers into her mouth.

"Mmm," Santana groaned, looking up at Brittany and smiling around her fingers as she cleaned them off with her tongue.

When she was done, she slid Brittany's fingers out of her mouth and laid their joined hands on Brittany's thigh. After taking a last look at Brittany—hot, wet, and ready for her—Santana inched her mouth closer and pressed a gentle kiss down.

Brittany jerked her hips up on impulse, causing a hearty chuckle from Santana. "Relax," Santana cooed, rubbing her hand along Brittany's thigh soothingly. Again, she brought her lips to Brittany, and, this time, she gave Brittany a firm lick of her tongue.

Brittany moaned at this new intimacy while Santana delved deeper into her task, eagerly swirling and flicking her tongue. Brittany's hands slid into Santana's hair, massaging her scalp every now and then to indicate her satisfaction with Santana's performance.

Santana made sure to keep her one hand interlocked with Brittany's, squeezing it reassuringly whenever it trembled. With her free hand, she reached down to hold Brittany open with her thumb and index finger, allowing her tongue to bury deeper into Brittany.

"Shit, Brittany," Santana muttered, "you taste so…"

"What?" Brittany panted, her chest heaving uncontrollably.

Santana slithered up Brittany's body and smiled at her flushed face. "So…fucking…good," she answered sultrily.

Brittany bit her lip to hold back a loud moan. "Santana…"

Santana covered Brittany's mouth with her own and swiftly slipped her tongue inside, stroking Brittany's hot tongue passionately. She broke from the kiss and smirked at Brittany. "Tastes delicious, doesn't it?"

Brittany whimpered, and Santana dropped back down onto her knees with a small laugh. This time, she brought her fingers into the mix, pumping one of them into Brittany as her tongue played with Brittany's clit. As the volume of Brittany's moans escalated, Santana closed her lips around the small nub and sucked gently while she slipped another finger inside.

Brittany's entire body thrashed under Santana's heavenly touch, and it was only then that Santana realized how much she could enjoy pleasuring somebody else. Maybe she had simply been too selfish her whole life, but, right then, watching Brittany and listening to those soft moans escaping her perfect parted lips, Santana could feel every ounce of Brittany's pleasure in herself.

"Hey, Britt," Santana husked, "tell me when you're close."

Brittany nodded, holding tightly onto the countertop as she slowly felt the buildup in her stomach. After a few more pumps of Santana's fingers and strokes of her tongue, Brittany whimpered, "I-I'm close, Santana."

Instantly, Santana softened her tongue and slowed her fingers, and Brittany could feel that buildup disappearing again. "_Santana_," she hissed with more desperation in her voice than she would have liked.

"Just be patient, Britt," Santana told her. "It'll feel really good, I promise."

And so Brittany wrapped an arm around her mouth, muffling all her cries of protest as Santana brought her so precariously close to the edge time and again but always denying her at the last second.

"Santana," Brittany begged at last, "please."

Santana grunted in acknowledgement as her free hand found Brittany's. Brittany's hand was soft and warm, and Santana just wanted to hold it for the rest of her life. "Okay, Britt," she whispered, "let go." Her fingers didn't slow down this time, and her tongue continued to roll insistently over Brittany's clit. She gazed up at Brittany then, studying each delicate feature intently, waiting for that moment.

Then a loud moan tore from Brittany's throat as she clenched hard around Santana's fingers again and again. Their eyes were still locked, and, if Santana felt a buzz before at their eye contact, it was a fucking explosion right now. Santana could almost feel Brittany's orgasm rippling through her own body just from staring at those piercing blue eyes.

As the unbelievable waves of pleasure coursed through Brittany's limp body, Brittany squeezed at Santana's hand, harder and harder each time the tingling sensations spread further than she had expected. She felt tingles run up her neck and out to her fucking jaw for God's sake.

Finally, after what felt way longer than just a few seconds, it ended. Brittany's heartbeat began to slow down as she gazed lazily down at Santana. "Wow," she breathed as a small grin crossed her lips.

Santana stared back at her, just as awestruck. "Wow," she echoed.

* * *

><p><strong>2:50<strong>

"Are you sure you're fine, Santana?" Brittany asked as she hooked her bra on.

Santana leaned against the other side of the bathroom and nodded. "Yep."

"Really?" Brittany asked worriedly. "I mean, I can always return the favor…"

"No, it's fine," Santana reassured her, trying to catch the last glimpses of her naked torso as Brittany slipped her blouse on. "People are probably going to notice if we don't get out of here soon."

"You're right," Brittany said. She tucked her blouse into her skirt and smiled at Santana.

"Well, I'm going to head out first," Santana said, reaching for the door. "Maybe you should come out after a bit so people don't get suspicious."

"Yeah, I'll talk to you la—" Brittany's smile dropped when the door closed in the middle of her sentence.

Santana closed the door behind her and sighed. What the fuck was she doing? This moment was usually when she started thinking of excuses to escape any type of postcoital activity—it had always been like that, but then why the hell did she feel like such a jerk? Just knowing that Brittany was behind that door probably with that way too adorable pout on her lips made Santana uneasy.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around to open the door again, but a cough halted her actions. Santana quickly spun around, looking around nervously.

"You took a while in there."

Santana narrowed her eyes at the source of the ridiculously annoying voice. "Manhands."

"Excuse me?" Rachel gasped.

Santana scowled at her before strutting away, bumping her shoulder intentionally against Rachel's. So what if she was being a bitch? It had always been like that.


	9. Part 1: Chapter 9

**2:55**

Brittany gently nudged the door open, careful not to let anyone see her slipping out of the bathroom. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she bumped into someone and stumbled over her feet.

"Well, well, well," Rachel muttered as Brittany regained her balance.

"What?" Brittany asked, quickly straightening out her skirt.

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "What were you doing in there?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, c'mon, Britt," Rachel sighed. "I saw that girl walking out, like, five minutes ago."

Brittany frowned at this but chose not to answer. "Can we drop this?" she asked instead.

Rachel backed away in surprise, not used to this tone of voice coming from Brittany. "Um, sure," she stuttered, watching Brittany disappear down the aisle.

* * *

><p><strong>3:00<strong>

Santana let out a sigh as she slid into her seat. It was done and over.

But why did it feel so, so far from being over?

She put on her headphones and turned on the mini television. She was going to watch a movie now and stop freaking out. It had always ended after the sex, and this time was not going to be an exception.

The chase was fun, and Brittany was hot, but that was all.

That was all.

* * *

><p><strong>3:15<strong>

"Rachel?" Brittany said timidly.

Rachel sat up from where she was napping and smiled. "Hey, Britt."

Brittany entered the rest area and plopped down next to Rachel with a sigh. "We hooked up."

Rachel blinked several times. "Um," she said unsurely, "by that, do you mean, like—"

"We had sex."

"Oh."

Brittany buried her face into her hands and groaned. "I'm so stupid," she mumbled.

Rachel edged closer to her and placed an arm around her shoulder. "Brittany, why are you so upset? I thought you liked her."

"I do, but I just, ugh." She glanced at Rachel and frowned. "I shouldn't have done it."

"Britt…"

"I thought she actually liked me," Brittany sighed.

Rachel rubbed at Brittany's arm reassuringly and offered a kind smile. "What happened, Brittany?"

"She left right afterward. I was just another one of her little games or something," Brittany muttered bitterly.

Rachel pulled Brittany into a hug and stroked her hair. "It'll be okay," she said. "It'll be okay."

* * *

><p><strong>3:45<strong>

"Quinn, do you ever have meaningless sex?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows at Santana and put her book down. "That's a very…personal question."

"I know," Santana sighed. "I just…" She ran her fingers through her hair tiredly and slumped into her seat. "Is it just me or is it getting cold in here?" she suddenly asked.

Quinn pulled Santana's blanket out from between them and tossed it onto Santana's lap. "There you go."

Santana clutched at it and smiled at Quinn. "Thanks, Quinn," she said sincerely. "People aren't usually…nice to me. They don't put blankets over me when I'm asleep or—"

Frowning, Quinn asked, "What do you mean?"

"You know," Santana said, "I fell asleep earlier and you put a blanket on me?"

"I didn't do that."

"What? Then why did you smile at me?"

Quinn knitted her eyebrows even more. "What are you talking about? I don't know why I _smiled_ at you. I smile at you all the time."

"Oh, God," Santana groaned as she started to connect the dots. Flashes of blonde hair and toned arms skipped through her hazy memory, and suddenly she knew exactly who it was. "Quinn, I'm such a bitch."

Tilting her head, Quinn asked, "Why would you say that, Santana?"

"Fuck."

"Not that I would disagree, but—"

"Seriously, Quinn?" Santana deadpanned. "Ugh, fuck it," she cursed again, getting up from her seat.

"What are you doing, Santana?"

"I just have to…fix something," she muttered, and she was gone before Quinn could even ask anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>4:00<strong>

"Thank God I finally found you," Santana panted. She placed a hand on her hip, catching her breath.

Despite the pang of pain she felt from just seeing the girl's face, Brittany glared at Santana with all the determination she could muster. "I thought you were trying to get rid of me," Brittany snapped. She strutted down the aisle purposefully, collecting all the stray items in the seats.

Santana trailed behind her, uncharacteristically nervous and unsure of what to say. "Brittany…."

"Santana," Brittany said stiffly, "we're landing soon. Why don't you just go back to your seat—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Santana had grabbed her face and kissed her—right there in front of everyone.

"Santana!" Brittany yelled, pushing Santana away despite how perfect it felt to have Santana's lips touch hers again. "Stop it!" she hissed as she wiped at her lips with the back of her hand.

She sped walk away, humiliated and angry about what had just happened.

But Santana persisted. "Wait, Brittany, please," she begged, picking up a brisk pace herself.

"You can't just…ugh, kiss people when you feel like it!" Brittany huffed in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Britt," Santana tried again. "I really am."

Brittany wanted to rip her heart out, frustrated at how hard it thumped when Santana called her "Britt" in that irresistibly husky voice.

"C'mon, Britt, just calm down and listen to me."

Halting in her tracks, Brittany slowly turned around and narrowed her eyes at Santana. "I know you just fuck whoever you see," she said in a harsh whisper, "but I actually have morals, so excuse me if I can't calm down, Santana."

Santana blinked several times as Brittany's words echoed in her mind. The truth stung so much when it was thrown at her like that. And what could she say? Brittany was right. "You're right," Santana said softly as her gaze moved to anywhere but Brittany's eyes. She was too ashamed, too disgusted with herself to look at Brittany. All of a sudden, she felt pathetic.

She felt pathetic for sleeping with a different girl every night and not remembering any of their names. She felt pathetic for having convinced herself all her life that her lifestyle was somehow healthier and even superior to other people's. It became clear to her now that she was only the loneliest person on the planet.

And with Brittany staring at her with those watery blue eyes, she understood for the first time what all those girls felt after she would kick them out of bed the next morning.

"I really am sorry, though, Brittany," Santana whispered hoarsely.


	10. Part 1: Chapter 10

**4:05**

As Brittany lifted her head to meet Santana's gaze, it happened again. She shuddered as tingles ran through her body, and she couldn't help but think that those brown eyes were the most sincere she had ever seen them.

But then again, she had thought many things of Santana that turned out horribly wrong. And with that bitter thought in her mind, Brittany shook her head quietly and turned to walk away.

* * *

><p><strong>4:10<strong>

"Quinn, have you ever been in a serious relationship?"

Quinn glanced over at Santana, amusement playing at her lips. "I've been in several serious relationships. Why do you ask?"

Santana sighed. "I'm 23, and I've never had a real relationship." She looked at Quinn and frowned. "Is that pathetic?"

"No," Quinn said after some thought, "everyone's different with these things."

"But it's probably time that I do find someone, right?"

"Is something wrong, Santana?"

"No," Santana said softly, gazing down at her hands, "does it sound like it?"

"I'm just surprised that you're not saying something utterly charming right now," Quinn joked.

Raising one eyebrow, Santana sent Quinn a crooked grin and coyly asked, "So you think I'm utterly charming?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and sighed. "And here I thought I was getting sensitive Santana."

Santana's smile faltered. "You are," she whispered, seriousness taking over again.

"Santana, you don't sound okay."

"I am," Santana said again. "I just need to…I think I just need to take things more seriously from now on."

"Yeah?" Quinn asked softly, clearly affected by Santana's sudden honesty.

"Yeah," Santana echoed. "I met someone, Quinn."

"Oh?" Quinn asked playfully.

"Mmhmm," Santana said with a small smile. Playing nervously with her fingers, Santana started to say quietly, "She's pretty…and funny…and I think she actually cares about me."

Quinn smiled flirtatiously back at Santana as she asked, "You think she's pretty?"

Santana looked up from her lap to meet Quinn's eyes, and then something struck her. She tilted her head slowly as flashes of Brittany's smiling face overflowed her mind—those blue eyes, those pink lips, that laugh… God, that laugh… And that's when she realized it. "She's beautiful."

* * *

><p><strong>4:20<strong>

"We're preparing for landing. Please buckle up your seatbelts," Brittany said as she strolled down the aisle. She caught a glimpse of Santana out of the corner of her eye and immediately made sure to avoid eye contact. Good thing Rachel was in charge of Santana's aisle.

As she neared Santana's row, she kept her eyes in the opposite direction. Yet she heard the soft call of Santana's voice anyway. "Brittany," Santana said.

Brittany pretended to not hear, but Santana tried again. "Brittany," Santana said louder this time. Just as Brittany gave in, turning her head to face Santana with a sigh, Rachel walked up to Santana and gestured at her seatbelt. "Buckle up, please, Miss," she said curtly, not too happy about how Santana treated her good friend.

Santana rolled her eyes and snapped her seat belt in place. "Happy, Manhands?"

Frowning at Santana, Rachel lifted her chin and strutted away indignantly.

After Rachel disappeared from view, Santana sighed once again and slumped back into her seat.

* * *

><p><strong>4:25<strong>

"Brittany, are you sure you're okay?"

Brittany shrugged nonchalantly, but Rachel took note of her downturned lips. "I'm fine," Brittany insisted.

"You know I don't like her, right?" Rachel asked all of a sudden.

Brittany looked over at Rachel in surprise. "Um…"

"I really don't like her, Brittany. She's a bitch, and she doesn't treat you right."

"She's not—" Brittany stopped talking as she realized there was no point in defending Santana.

"But I see the way you are," Rachel continued. "I've seen you this way before, Britt, when you go through stupid breakups and stuff, but I've never seen you this affected by someone you've only met for, what, twelve hours?"

Brittany bit her lip, knowing that everything Rachel said was right. There was just something about Santana…something she couldn't describe. Some kind of chemistry. They just clicked.

"And I don't even know if it's a good idea to keep her in your life, but it'll be a horrible idea to just let her go and never see her again in your life."

"Do…do you think so, Rachel?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Brittany. I don't want her to hurt you again, but there's something special about her, isn't there?" Rachel asked knowingly, a wistful smile on her lips.

Brittany nodded. "I'm not going to talk to her first, though," she added stubbornly.

Rachel reached over and squeezed Brittany's hand. "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>4:35<strong>

"Hi, Quinn," Rachel chirped, waving her hand.

Quinn peeked over the top of Santana's head and grinned. "Hey, Rach."

Santana rolled her eyes and glared at Rachel. "What do you want, Manhands?"

"Can I not come talk to Quinn?" Rachel countered.

"Fine," Santana huffed.

But Rachel quickly kneeled down beside Santana's seat and glared at her. "But I'm here to talk to you," she said in a low voice, making sure Quinn won't hear.

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked with disgust.

"Because you have to talk to Brittany."

Santana's eyes immediately softened as she looked away. "She doesn't want to talk to me."

"You know what? I really don't care what's going on between you two, but just know that if you don't talk to her now, you'll probably never see her again in your life." Rachel stood up abruptly and looked pointedly down at Santana. "And it'll be too late before you realize it."

Rachel briskly walked away, leaving Santana at a loss for words and a whole lot to think about.

* * *

><p><strong>4:45<strong>

"Miss, you have to stay in your seat," Mike insisted.

Santana shot him a dirty look and continued making her way down the aisle. "Get lost, Mike."

"Miss, we are in the middle of landing—"

"Look," Santana seethed, all prepared to explode in frustration. But then she paused, pushed her anger away, and gazed pleadingly at Mike. "Please. I really have to speak to Brittany."

Mike hesitated, almost about to let Santana go, but rules were rules.

"I'm sorry, Miss—"

"It's okay, Mike," Brittany said, walking up to the two of them. She had watched Santana struggle enough from afar.

Santana spun around at hearing the familiar voice and smiled fleetingly at Brittany. Brittany nodded back in acknowledgement and waited until Mike disappeared to ask, "What did you want to say, Santana?"

Santana ducked her head and tried to catch Brittany's eyes, but Brittany looked away each time.

"Brittany," Santana let out exasperatedly, "please."

"What?"

"You won't even look at me."

"That's not true," Brittany said, staring intently at her feet.

Santana sighed and ran a hand through her hair, contemplating her next words. "Brittany," she said after a thoughtful moment, "I've never met anyone like you." And then she turned around to leave.

"Wait," Brittany said to Santana's back. "Is that all you're going to say to me?"

Another pause. A lingering silence. Santana stared down at her feet, whispering, "Yeah."

Brittany blinked as she watched Santana walk away. And she wanted more. She wanted to drown into her eyes, float atop her voice, burn under her touch. She wanted her—in more ways than one, in every way.

Then all of a sudden, Santana stopped. She spun around and marched up to Brittany, cradling Brittany's cheek in her palm. "There's so much more I want to say, and I can't put any of it into words. I just…I just want to kiss you; I want to hear your laugh, feel your fingers slipping through mine…" Santana pulled her hand away and gazed anxiously back at Brittany. Her words had made absolutely no sense.

"Then do it," Brittany whispered. "Kiss me," she clarified as Santana's eyebrows rose in question.

Her eyebrows still furrowed in thought and in feelings that overwhelmed her small heart, Santana gently held Brittany by her chin and pulled Brittany's lips down to hers.

They kissed for the longest time. They felt like they were flying, like they were floating midair, like they were amongst the clouds.

And they were.

* * *

><p><strong>5:00<strong>

"Brittany, get in your seat!" Mike called out to her as he quickly approached. "We were supposed to be in our seats five minutes ago!"

Brittany tore her gaze from Santana and glanced at Mike. "I know, I know. I'm coming, Mike."

He held her by her arm and began tugging her away. "C'mon," he said.

"Wait, Mike, give me a sec."

"Brittany."

"Mike…"

"One second."

Brittany smiled and turned back to Santana. "I have to go."

"Yeah," Santana said, feeling unexpectedly uncomfortable as reality set in.

"Let's go, Brittany," Mike said again, pulling her away.

Brittany slowly let him drag her away, but she kept her eyes locked expectantly onto Santana's, waiting for her to say something.

Finally, she did. "Wait for me," Santana said. "After we land, wait for me." She smiled hopefully at Brittany. "Would you do that for me, Brittany?"

* * *

><p><em>End of Part I<em>


	11. Part 2: Chapter 1

_Part II_

* * *

><p><em>Two Years Later<em>

* * *

><p><strong>17:00<strong>

Santana pulled a magazine out of the pocket in the seat ahead of her and casually flipped through it. Quickly bored—as she always was by things as well as people—she stuffed the magazine back into the pocket and gazed outside the small plastic window.

She watched the wing of the plane slice through the clouds. It was beautiful, in a bittersweet sort of way. Kind of like the way she felt about planes, actually. The warm pink sunlight seeped through the clouds and hit the windowpane, but the plastic still felt cold against her cheek.

Santana was happier than she had ever been in her life. Yet, she couldn't help but want more. Maybe it was learning the first time that there was something better out there in life that made her long for more. Maybe that knowledge spoiled her.

But she was happy now. Happier than she had ever been.

"Would you like some champagne, Miss?"

Santana let out a sigh of content—or was it relief?—when that question grazed just past her ear. Thank God for business class. "Yes," Santana breathed. "Please," she added quickly. With reluctance, she broke her gaze from the window and smiled politely up at the flight attendant.

And that's when the smile dropped from her face.

"Brittany," she choked as she stared into those all too familiar blue eyes.

"S-Santana," Brittany whispered, her eyes still wide from shock, "what are you doing here?"

Santana contemplated her answer for a moment before answering, "I'm flying to Ohio."

As the shock of the situation passed, Brittany broke into a wide grin, as if she had just run into a dear old friend. "How have you been?" she gushed.

Santana smiled back as she watched Brittany's beaming face. Brittany's smiles had always been infectious. "I've been great. What about you, Britt?" she asked, and she just then realized how much she missed saying "Britt" so casually like that.

"I've been great, too," Brittany replied with a nod.

Santana nodded along, still smiling. She didn't really feel like saying anything. Watching Brittany was enough. Brittany was grinning so hard her top lip became a thin pink line in the most adorable way.

"So…," Brittany started saying, "champagne?"

Santana chuckled as she took the glass from Brittany's hands. "Thank you," she said sincerely, tipping the drink toward Brittany in acknowledgement.

Brittany smiled down at Santana for a moment before remarking, "You look good, Santana."

"I am," Santana replied with a grin. "I am."

"I'm glad."

"Thank you."

"Well, I should probably go finish giving out the champagne now," Brittany said.

"Yeah, of course."

Brittany looked at Santana again, taking in all her delicate features that were even more beautiful than she had remembered. "I'll talk to you soon," she said at last as she carried her tray of champagne away.

* * *

><p><strong>17:15<strong>

"Rachel, you would never guess who I just ran into."

Rachel looked dubiously over at her good friend, who was always more than a bit overdramatic. "Who?"

"Santana!" Brittany exclaimed.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Rachel tried to remember. That name sounded too familiar… And then it hit her. "Santana?" she echoed. "The girl from the plane two years ago?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, my God, Brittany," Rachel squeaked, "what did you say to her?"

"I just asked how she was and stuff," Brittany rambled.

"Just how she was and stuff?" Rachel asked incredulously. "You've lost track of this girl for two years, and you just asked about how she was?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say, Rachel? I haven't seen her for two years. I can't just go up and make out with her," Brittany hissed. "Although…that would be nice," she added as an afterthought.

"Oh, my God, Brittany," Rachel said again. "You have to go talk to her. Explain things. She probably thought you didn't want to wait for her."

"She probably does, doesn't she?" Brittany groaned. "Ugh, if I hadn't had brought that stupid toy gun with me, I wouldn't have been detained, and none of this would have happened."

"So go tell her right now!" Rachel said. "You've waited for two years. Don't wait any more."

"But, Rach, just like you said, it's been two years… What if she doesn't like me anymore?"

"Brittany, there's no one in this world who doesn't like you. Now go."

Brittany giggled as Rachel shoved her away, strutting happily toward Santana's seat.

* * *

><p><strong>17:25<strong>

"Santana," she chirped, tapping Santana on her shoulder with her finger.

Santana spun around in her seat and smiled. "Oh, hey, Britt."

"Hi. So I know this is going to sound weird, but I'd kill myself if I miss this chance."

"Um, okay…"

"You know two years ago?"

"Uh huh—"

"What's going on?" came a third voice.

Brittany turned around and came face to face with a very pretty girl, who looked sort of familiar, actually.

Santana looked between Brittany and the girl several times before reaching out for the girl's hand and pulling her close.

Brittany shifted away to make room for the newcomer.

"I just ran into an old friend," Santana explained to the girl. Then she turned to Brittany and said, "You might not remember, Brittany, but this is Quinn."

Quinn smiled, sticking out her hand. "Hi."

Brittany smiled back weakly at the almost frustratingly beautiful woman, taking her hand and shaking it. "Hi."

Quinn looked back at Santana. "Baby, you never told me about a Brittany," she said as Brittany cringed at the affectionate term.

Santana shrugged. "Never came up."

* * *

><p><strong>17:40<strong>

With a mischievous grin, Santana craned her neck and placed a delicate kiss onto the back of her girlfriend's hand. "Come back soon, okay?" she murmured, snuggling back into her seat. She spent another moment watching Quinn walk away to the bathroom before losing interest in those admittedly sexy hips. The allure they once held for Santana had simply disappeared with time.

Still, Santana loved her. She loved her with all her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So what do you guys think about Part II?


	12. Part 2: Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hi, guys! Back with a new chapter. :) So I got a lot of questions/complaints about the last chapter, which is fine, but please log in to your accounts when you ask questions or voice your complaints in your reviews. Because I do have answers for you, and I would be more than happy to answer them through PMs. To everyone who thinks there's no way to "fix" this Quinntana problem, why would you ever think that? There are very little things in this world that are unfixable, especially in the world of fiction. Have faith, my friends, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>17:45<strong>

"How was it, Brittany?" Rachel asked excitedly.

Brittany sighed and rolled her eyes. "Bad."

"Why?" Rachel asked softly, placing a hand on Brittany's arm.

"Do you remember a girl named Quinn?"

"Yeah," Rachel said immediately. "I met her on the same flight as Santana."

"Oh." Brittany pursed her lips as she tried to remember what happened on that flight two years ago. Quinn did look familiar, but she sees so many passengers every day, trying to remember one from two years ago was a little difficult.

"What about it, Britt?"

"She's with Santana," Brittany explained.

"What?"

"Yeah," Brittany said with a shrug.

"Wow…"

When Rachel noticed the weird look Brittany shot her, she immediately dropped the shock from her face and rubbed Brittany's arm soothingly. "I'm sorry," Rachel said.

"Me, too," Brittany sighed. "She's pretty, too," Brittany added quietly.

"Yeah," Rachel replied.

Brittany stopped drowning in her own sorrow for a moment to glance questioningly at Rachel. "How do you remember her, Rachel? This was two years ago."

"We talked," Rachel said simply.

"Rachel…," Brittany said suspiciously.

"Fine," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes, "we may have talked a few times."

"Huh."

"Nothing _happened_ with her," Rachel said quickly as Brittany squinted her eyes accusingly at her. "We just kind of got along."

"Well, this sucks, but, whatever. I'll get over it."

"Of course you will," Rachel said with a small smile. "You've been fine these two years, haven't you?"

Brittany grinned. "Why, yes, I have."

Rachel and Brittany exchanged knowing looks. After all, Brittany wasn't exactly known for her prudishness.

"It's just," Brittany started saying as she furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully. "It was different, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"I mean, I had never met anyone like her."

* * *

><p><strong>18:15<strong>

Turns out, Brittany couldn't get over it.

Especially not with Santana smiling and giggling like that. Did she ever mention how Santana was ten times more beautiful when she was happy? And she seemed happy now. And a ten times more beautiful Santana is an outrageous amount of beautiful.

As Brittany made her way down the aisle, she kept stealing glances at Santana. She couldn't decide if her heart wanted to burst at seeing Santana's smiling face or if it wanted to crumple at seeing that Quinn was the reason for that endearing laugh.

Either way, she was nearing Santana's row, and she had to control herself. "Hi," Brittany chirped, sending a warm smile Santana's way, "would you like to have your meals now?"

Santana turned away from her conversation with Quinn to smile back at Brittany. "Yes, please," she said pleasantly. Turning back to Quinn, she tilted her head and asked, "You're hungry, right?"

"Starving," Quinn replied.

Santana chuckled and looked up at Brittany again. "Thanks, Britt."

"Of course," Brittany replied with a nod. As she set up both Quinn and Santana's tables, Quinn suddenly held out her hand.

"Wait," Quinn said. "I think I'm going to go to the bathroom first."

Santana smiled. "Go ahead," she said, gesturing the way with her arm.

"You're just so charming, _Doctor_ Lopez," Quinn joked. Quinn slid out of her seat, sending Santana a longing glance as she squeezed her way past Brittany with an apologetic smile.

Brittany had to smile back. It was only the polite thing to do.

When Quinn had disappeared from sight, Brittany nodded several times to herself as she asked, "Doctor Lopez, huh?"

Santana glanced down at her hands. "Yep."

"Hm."

"What?" Santana asked self-consciously.

"I just thought…" But then Brittany shook her head. "Never mind."

"Fine."

"I guess I'll just get your stuff set up for now."

Santana nodded.

"Was it hard?" Brittany asked as she draped the small tablecloth over the foldable table.

"Was what hard?"

"Getting your PhD."

Santana thought about it for a moment. "Yeah," she decided finally.

"Well, just look at you." Brittany said in an exaggeratedly commending voice. "Just twenty-six and you already have your doctorate degree."

"Thanks," Santana muttered.

Brittany couldn't help but say it out loud. "You say 'thanks' a lot now, Santana," she pointed out.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows confusedly. "Umm…"

"I mean, it's a good thing. It's just…you've changed."

"Yeah, well," Santana said with dry chuckle, "things change."

Brittany blinked several times, gazing deeply into Santana's eyes. "Not everything."

And as if to just prove her point, that inexplicable shudder ran through her body again. Exactly like it did two years ago.

Santana coughed to break the tension, glancing away from those blue eyes that did things to her body she couldn't even control.

"Are you happy?" Brittany asked suddenly. "You seem happy."

Santana nodded slowly. "I think so."

"Good."

They stared at each other again in silence, neither completely sure of the other. "So how long have you been with Quinn?" Brittany asked suddenly. She tried to keep her tone nonchalant, but God knows it wasn't.

Santana pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying to read Brittany's face and her forced smile. "Two years," she replied.

"Oh, wow," Brittany commented with a loud chuckle, "so a long time then."

"Yeah."

"And it must be serious."

Santana grimaced at Brittany's direct tone. "You could say that."

"Huh, two years," Brittany repeated. "So it must have started right after we met actually," she couldn't help but add.

"Brittany…" Santana trailed off, biting her lip hesitantly when she asked, "Brittany, why didn't you show—"

"Ugh, there was a line," Quinn huffed as she interrupted the conversation.

Santana quickly flicked her eyes over to Quinn. "Hey," she said with a smile.

"Hi," Quinn replied, stepping over Santana to get back into her seat. She looked at Brittany curiously, unsure of the sudden silence. "So…what were we talking about?"

* * *

><p><strong>19:15<strong>

Santana smiled softly to herself as she covered Quinn's body with a light blanket. Quinn was always so adorable when she was asleep.

Not that she wasn't when she was awake. She was simply…less personable when awake. Either way, you have to accept people for their goods and their bads, right?

Checking to see that Quinn was in a deep sleep, Santana got up from her seat and headed toward the bathroom. Ah, airplane bathrooms. They brought back memories. She smiled to herself as she pushed open the door when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Whatcha smiling at?"

Santana spun around to find Brittany looking at her with a playful grin. "Nothing," Santana replied with a smirk.

"Nothing, huh?" Brittany crossed her arms, that knowing smile still on her face.

"Why?" Santana asked. "What did you think I was smiling at?"

"Nothing at all," Brittany said with a shake of her head.

Santana chuckled, briefly casting her eyes downward before flicking them up to meet Brittany's gaze again. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, what about you? Why are you smiling?"

Brittany shrugged. "No reason."

"Yeah? It's not because this brings back certain memories?"

"Memories?" Brittany snorted. "Definitely not," she said with a hint of a smile.

"Oh, c'mon," Santana groaned. "Give me a little more credit."

Brittany giggled. "You know I'm just playing with you, Santana. How could I ever forget?"

Santana grinned. "Well, I _am_ pretty memorable."

With a smile tugging at her lips, Brittany shook her head in disbelief. "Good to know things haven't changed _that_ much."

Santana smiled back, more genuinely this time. "Yeah."

"Well, I better go now. You have fun in there," Brittany said with a wink.

And before Santana could get a word back, Brittany had already strutted away.

Santana had almost forgotten how hot Brittany was. But watching her glide away with those long legs and those curvy hips, Santana remembered. It was almost frustrating, Brittany's body. Could it be more perfect? And was it Santana's fault that she couldn't tear her eyes away?

It didn't make her a bad girlfriend, did it? After all, she does have eyes, and they do tend to fall upon irresistibly hot people…namely, blue-eyed blonde-haired flight attendants.

Santana took a deep breath and shook the thoughts from her head. She was happy. She had to remember that. So, with the most determination she could gather, she pushed her way into the bathroom.

And, fine, she might have taken one last peek, but who was counting?


	13. Part 2: Chapter 3

**20:00**

"Fuck," Santana muttered under her breath as she shot her bird way out of range.

"Santana," Quinn mumbled, "shhh."

Santana glanced over at her sleeping girlfriend and frowned. Oops. She knew Quinn was a light sleepover, but Angry Birds just riles her up, okay? "Sorry," she whispered.

Quinn blinked slowly, catching a glimpse of Santana's iPhone screen. "Angry Birds again?"

"Yeah…"

Quinn just shook her head and went back to sleep.

Santana shrugged in spite of Quinn's disapproval. Quinn had never really understood her preoccupation with Angry Birds. Yes, it was just a game, but it was _serious_ game. Anyway, being the considerate girlfriend Santana was (and had tried very hard to be these past two years), she got up from her seat to find somewhere else to play the game so as not to disturb Quinn.

Now that she could afford to fly in Business Class, Santana found a nice empty area at the end of her row. Leaning against the wall, she began her game again. And just like déjà vu, she was interrupted in the middle of a very important stage. Santana quickly flinched toward the hand that had tapped her shoulder. It was Brittany.

"Oh, hey."

Brittany looked at Santana's phone and grinned. "Hi. Angry Birds?"

Santana laughed sheepishly. "Yeah… Stupid, I know."

"No, it's not."

Santana smiled. Brittany always said the right things.

"Nice to see you being more pleasant about having your game interrupted this time," Brittany teased.

"Well, you know, now that I'm all _grownup_ and have _adult_ responsibilities…"

Both Brittany and Santana's smiles faltered as Santana's witty remark trailed off. What was meant to be a joke turned out truer than ever.

"Yeah," Brittany said curtly. "We can't just drop everything anymore 'cause we want to, can we?"

Santana broke the silence with a sly grin. "But we can still play Angry Birds."

Brittany laughed. "That we can do."

Santana started the game up again, sticking her tongue out as she took her aim. "I'm just stuck on this level…"

"Oh, why don't you try this?" Brittany held Santana's hand in her own and pulled it at just the right angle, finally releasing the bird with a triumphant smile. "See?" Brittany exclaimed as the green pigs disappeared into thin air.

But Santana wasn't looking down at her phone anymore. She was looking at Brittany's elated face, basking in the warmth of her hand and the softness of her skin and everything Brittany.

Brittany glanced up upon Santana's silence and gulped as she locked eyes with Santana.

"Brittany," Santana choked, "why didn't you…why didn't you show up?"

"What?" Brittany squeaked.

"Two years ago, where were you?"

"I got stuck at customs, Santana. I wanted to find you. I meant it when I promised to wait for you, I did."

Santana knitted her eyebrows and gazed back at Brittany with so much despair, Brittany's heart broke a little. "What?" Her voice cracked. Why couldn't have Brittany just said that she didn't want to wait for her? That would have been so much easier to get over, and now… And now, she would always feel like she missed something so important in her life, and, with Quinn in the picture, she couldn't even go back to fix it.

She bore her eyes deeper into Brittany's deep blue ones, finding nothing but sincerity in them. She couldn't even bring herself to try to ignore these bottled-up feelings for Brittany, now that she knew Brittany had done nothing wrong. Now that she knew Brittany reciprocated the very same feelings. "Oh, God, Britt…"

Brittany smiled sadly. "I never stopped thinking about you, you know."

"Me neither," Santana replied with a bittersweet smile. "But…I have Quinn…and I love her."

Brittany nodded. "I guess…some things just aren't meant to be."

Santana bit her lip. How could something that had felt so right and that still feels so right not be meant to be? "But…" She trailed off, realizing that she shouldn't be questioning what might have been when she was in a perfectly functional relationship.

"It's okay, San," Brittany reassured her. "I know you care for Quinn very much."

Santana nodded mutely. "I do," she whispered.

"Look, I have to get back to work now." Brittany gave Santana's hand another squeeze, trying her best to comfort Santana about the situation even though God knew how much she needed reassurance herself. "I'll see you later, San."

Still drowned too deep into her own thoughts, Santana didn't even get to say bye before Brittany disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>20:20<strong>

"There you are," Quinn croaked once Santana settled back into her seat. "You okay?" she asked, noticing the lost expression on Santana's face.

"Um…" Santana forced herself to look at Quinn, trying her best to push away her problems. "Yeah…I'm f-fine."

"You don't look fine, Santana."

"Just a little tired," she lied.

"Alright," Quinn said. "Take a nap or something."

Santana nodded.

Tiredly, Quinn snuggled back into her blankets and closed her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Santana replied automatically.

If Quinn's eyes were open, she would have seen the hesitation on Santana's face.

For the first time in a long time, Santana couldn't say those three words with complete confidence anymore. But she had to love Quinn, right? Two years was a long time, long enough for her to form one of most special relationships in her life.

Then where did this connection, this inexplicable bond with Brittany come from? How was it that in the span of one and a half plane rides, Santana had developed something with Brittany that she had never felt with anyone else?

Santana gritted her teeth, now remembering why she hated feelings so much. Because feelings fucking confused her. But, just as feelings made her lows lower, they also made her highs higher. And, for that, she was thankful for the people who have taught her to feel, whether that be Quinn or Brittany or…well, that's it.

Santana gazed at Quinn's sleeping form, attempting to search for some type of assurance. But staring at Quinn's lidded eyes and seeing the steady rise of her chest felt the same as every other time Santana watched Quinn sleep.

And, this time, it wasn't enough.

Finally, Santana crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes and willing these thoughts to leave her mind.

* * *

><p><strong>21:00<strong>

"Hey, Santana?"

Santana squinted her eyes closed further, not yet ready to awake from her peaceful sleep.

"Santana?"

"What?" she mumbled.

"Where did you put my iPod?"

"It's in my bag."

"Oh." Quinn reached for Santana's bag, where her feet were resting, finally causing Santana to open her eyes. "Sorry," Quinn whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Santana shook her head, blinking several more times to force the sleep away. "It's alright. I'm up." She straightened out her back, only then noticing the blanket covering her body.

Quinn noticed the confusion on Santana's face as she stared at the blanket and giggled when Santana raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't ask me," Quinn said.

Santana blinked. Then smiled as realization hit her. Brittany. And, just as quickly, she frowned, suddenly aware of the stupid smile on her face just at the _thought_ of Brittany. God, she really needed to control her emotions from now on.

But right as she nodded to herself in determination, a familiar scent wafted by her nose. She glanced up as she breathed in the familiar fruity scent, and there Brittany was, strutting down the aisle, all professional and attending to her flight attendant duties. Brittany caught Santana's gaze and grinned at her.

Immediately, Santana smiled goofily back.

And it was then that Santana knew it would be harder than she had thought to keep her emotions in check. At least when Brittany and her silky blonde hair and smooth tanned legs and velvety blue eyes were involved.


	14. Part 2: Chapter 4

**21:05**

Quinn glanced between Santana's smiling face and the source of her happiness, surprised to find her eyes falling upon the ever-elusive Brittany. Was she unhappy with Santana's friendship with the woman? No, not exactly. But she was… uneasy about it. Even with Santana's impressive progressive these past two years in terms of her personableness, Santana still had a long way to go to being nice.

And, really, there were few people in this world that Santana cared for, those being Quinn herself, Santana's parents (in a somewhat obligatory way), and, apparently, Brittany.

Quinn knew she might have needed to be warier of whatever this relationship was Santana shared with Brittany, but Quinn was never the jealous type, and Brittany seemed innocently nice enough.

When Santana noticed Quinn's thoughtful observation of her interaction with Brittany, she quickly snapped back in her seat and smiled weakly at Quinn.

"What's up?" she asked.

Quinn shrugged. "Nothing." She pulled a book out from her bag and flipped to where she had bookmarked it. Santana had always been enamored by the idea of Quinn as an avid reader.

"Oh."

"So," Quinn began nonchalantly, "that was Brittany, right?"

Santana nodded cautiously. Two years, and she still couldn't read Quinn's expressions.

"She seems nice."

"She is."

Quinn looked up from her book and studied Santana carefully. "Hm," she said at last.

* * *

><p><strong>21:30<strong>

"Ugh, I need a break."

Brittany grinned at Rachel and patted the empty seat next to her. "Come lie down for a bit."

Rachel stalked over and plopped down next to Brittany. "God, I'm tired."

"Tell me about it."

Hearing the bitterness in Brittany's voice, Rachel peered up at Brittany and smiled sympathetically. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Anything new with, um, Santana?"

Brittany frowned then as something unreadable flashed across her eyes. "Yes, actually."

Rachel waited patiently for her to continue.

"We had a serious talk, and I think she might have feelings for me?" Brittany tilted her head confusedly. "But I don't know. She's in a committed relationship, and she loves her girlfriend."

"Oh." Rachel reached for Brittany's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"She's…a good person, you know?"

Rachel nodded.

"I mean, she told me herself that she loves her girlfriend, and I think she's just trying to do the right thing."

Rachel nodded again, but this time she bit her lip, as if holding something back.

"What?" Brittany asked.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but stopped again.

"Tell me," Brittany insisted.

"Brittany, you know we're really different people."

"Uh huh…"

"You're kind and selfless, and you always think about others."

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows, waiting for Rachel to get to her point.

"And I'm… Well, let's just say that I care very much about myself and my ambitions. Still, I admire the way you are, and you're honestly one of the best people I've met. But, sometimes, you just have to stop thinking about other people and think about yourself. It's just so much easier that way. Trust me, I would know. So, if I were you, I would stop thinking about hurting other people's feelings and think about myself for once."

Brittany pursed her lips, thinking over Rachel's advice.

"You don't have to do it. I know that's not the way you are, but give it some thought. I just…want you to be happy."

Brittany sighed. "Thanks, Rachel."

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>22:00<strong>

Santana gazed lazily out the tiny airplane window, admiring the bed of cloud underneath them. It was odd, now that she thought about. It was odd that she was in the sky. It was even stranger that it was in the air that the most pivotal events occurred in her life.

Although still beyond confused with her feelings, the boredom had gotten to her, and she now gave up all thought as she stared at the clouds and sunshine. If only there were rainbows. That would complete the picture. Maybe that would convince her that the world wasn't such a miserable place after all. But Santana had only seen a rainbow once in her life, and she was almost too young to remember it.

"I need to see a rainbow," Santana mumbled.

She didn't realize that Quinn was paying attention, who now placed her book in her lap and quirked an eyebrow at Santana. "A rainbow?"

Santana broke from her trance and looked at Quinn. "Yeah," she said. "I've only seen a rainbow once, and I can barely remember it."

Quinn tilted her head. The Santana she knew never talked about rainbows. "Can you even see rainbows this high in the sky?"

Santana shrugged. "I don't know. Can you?"

"I mean, I suppose it's possible."

"Right?"

Quinn nodded slowly to herself. "I think so."

Santana stared longingly out the window one last time before leaning back in her seat. "I'm bored."

Quinn smiled. "What do you want to do?"

"Wanna play some cards?" Santana asked with a smirk.

Quinn shook her head playfully. "You know I don't like cards."

It was true. Quinn wasn't much of a board game or cards player, unlike the competitive Santana. "But you'll do it to entertain me…?"

"Fine," Quinn sighed.

Santana grinned and hit the flight attendant button.

As she waited, a part of her secretly hoped that Brittany would show up. She just felt like she needed to see Brittany's face right then. It made her feel nice, seeing Brittany, but it made her heart lurch in her chest at the same time. She couldn't decide if it was overall a pleasant feeling. She just knew she liked it.

But, of course, Rachel appeared beside her with a smile way too big to be natural. Santana had to admit, she had grown to tolerate more people and things in these recent years, but Rachel still annoyed her to no end.

Quinn, though, had no such feeling, as shown by her enthusiastic smile at the flight attendant. "Hi," she gushed, leaning over Santana, "could you get us a deck of cards, please?"

Santana rolled her eyes. It always annoyed her to see Quinn be "nice" to women. Santana knew precisely Quinn's type and knew exactly when she was flirting. In fact, that brought up an interesting thought… Santana was not Quinn's type at all.

"Certainly," Rachel replied in her squeaky voice.

Quinn leaned over Santana even further and said, "Thank you so much."

As Rachel strutted away like she was the most important person in existence, Santana mumbled, "It's not like she's saving the world."

Quinn shifted back in her seat and frowned disapprovingly. "Santana…"

"What?"

"Stop being mean."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Well, maybe you should stop flirting with random women."

"Santana! I was not _flirting_-"

"Hey," Brittany interrupted. "Did you need something?"

Santana quickly flicked her eyes from Quinn to Brittany, who now stood beside her in the aisle. "Oh, I just need a deck of cards, but Rachel went to get them."

"Oh. Silly Rach, she forgot to turn the light off," Brittany said as she leaned in and pressed the flight attendant button once.

This position put her boobs right in front of Santana's face, and to say they were distracting was an understatement.

"So you're good, right?" Brittany looked unsurely between Santana and Quinn, who was now squinting her eyes at her girlfriend.

Santana gulped, her line of sight still glued to Brittany's chest. "Yeah, I'm…really good."

Brittany raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Alright, then." She stood in place for another moment, wanting to say something more but needing to control herself at the same time in front of Quinn. Finally, she decided against doing anything else and simply walked away.

"So I guess flirting's unacceptable, but blatant ogling is fine."

Santana rolled her eyes at Quinn's passive aggressive remark and cleared her throat indignantly. "I wasn't _ogling_. Her boobs were just right in my face; it was hard to do anything else."

"So are you saying you didn't _like_ it?"

Santana crossed her arms across her chest and scowled. It wasn't like she could deny enjoying the sight since Quinn always knew when she lied. So, instead, she said, "You know I love all women's boobs."

Quinn scoffed.

Just then, Rachel returned with a stack of cards, unknowingly stumbling right into a petty flight. "Here you are," she beamed, stretching her arm right across Santana's face to hand the cards to Quinn.

Quinn quickly wiped the frown from her face and flashed Rachel a wide smile. "Thank you."

"Of course." Rachel smiled sweetly back. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me."

"Great. Thanks again."

At last, Rachel nodded once more before getting out of Santana's face.

"Thank God the midget's gone."

Quinn shot Santana one of her signature death glares that even Santana could learn from.

"What?"

"You know what."

Santana took a deep, exasperated breath and averted her gaze. She took a quick scan of the plane before seeing Brittany walking through again. She abruptly got up from her seat. "I need to…stretch."


	15. Part 2: Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Big chapter coming up! Hope you guys like it. Also, I just started using my Tumblr (louicorn[.]tumblr[.]com), where I'll be answering questions, posting short pieces and information about my fics, and all that stuff.

* * *

><p><strong>22:20<strong>

"Britt-Britt."

Brittany turned around. "Oh! Hi, Santana," she said in surprise, only just realizing how much she missed hearing that endearing nickname come from Santana's mouth.

"Are you busy?"

"Um…no," she lied.

"Cool," Santana said with a grin that surprised even herself. She hadn't expected such a turn in her mood after her small quarrel with Quinn. Oh, the things Brittany did to her…

Brittany tilted her head in question. "Aren't you playing cards with Quinn or something?"

"Not anymore." Santana waved her hand dismissively, hoping to change the topic. "I just needed to stretch a bit."

"Oh, alright." Brittany nodded slowly, unsure of Santana's intentions. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then?" Despite her heart telling her to stay and chat longer, a part of her still felt wrong, felt guilty for doing whatever this was with someone's girlfriend.

"Oh. Okay."

They stared at each other for several moments before Brittany hesitantly walked away, inwardly cursing herself for her strong conscience.

But then a hand caught her wrist, the touch sending shivers up her arm.

"Wait," Santana said.

Brittany spun around, her lips struggling between a grimace and a grin. "Yes?"

"Can we talk?"

* * *

><p><strong>22:30<strong>

"What did you want to talk about?" Brittany furrowed her eyebrows, sensing the stress from Santana's eyes. She patted the empty seat next to her in the empty attendant lounge, hoping to stop Santana from pacing back and forth uncontrollably.

Santana scratched at her head, frankly uncertain about the answer herself. "I sort of had an argument with Quinn."

"Oh."

"And the first thing I wanted to do afterward was come find you."

"Okay."

Santana turned to face Brittany, her eyes blurred with confusion. "Is that wrong?"

"Um…"

"I know it's totally weird that I'm asking you this, but it seems like it's wrong, doesn't it?"

"We're just talking," Brittany pointed out.

"I know, but I just feel like…I shouldn't be thinking about you right after a fight with my _girlfriend_."

"I get that."

"Yeah." Santana sighed. "But I did think about you. I'm still thinking about you. In fact, that's all I've been doing this whole goddamn flight."

Brittany showed a hint of a smile despite it all. "Me, too," she said quietly.

Santana paused, still staring at Brittany with confusion all over her face. Then her brows relaxed, and her eyes softened, and a slight smile made its way onto her face.

Brittany's grin widened, and Santana chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. "We really shouldn't be smiling like this, should we?" she asked.

Brittany shook her head. "Nope."

A short laugh escaped Santana's lips.

Brittany snorted.

A moment of silence passed as they studied each other in amusement before they both burst into laughter.

"Britt!" Santana gasped through her giggles. "Stop laughing!"

Brittany covered her mouth with her hand, but that didn't stop the laughter from pouring out. "You stop!"

Santana clutched at her stomach and collapsed onto the seat next to Brittany, finally ceasing her laughter. "Oh, God, this is messed up."

Brittany rolled her head back tiredly, as if exhausted from the laughter. "Kinda," she agreed.

"Look what you do to me," Santana said in a jokingly accusing manner.

"What?" Brittany grinned cutely.

"You make me crazy," Santana said as she leaned back, resting her head just inches from Brittany's. Then, as if realizing something, she pursed her lips and repeated in a whisper, "You…make me crazy."

Brittany's line of sight shifted down to Santana's lips just for an instant, but Santana noticed it anyway. "Not as crazy as you make me."

Santana smirked. "You're something special, aren't you?"

Brittany shrugged. "What do you think?" she asked coyly.

"I think…" The smirk faded from Santana's face. "Of course I think you're something special, Britt."

"Hmm…"

"How did I ever get by without you?" Santana whispered in wonder.

"You tell me," Brittany breathed, inching closer by the second.

"I don't think I can do it again."

"Do what?"

"Go two years without you," Santana replied. "Not after all of this. Not after seeing you here again and finding how much you mean to me."

Grinning, Brittany leaned in further, but right as the gentle caress of her lips brushed against Santana's, Santana jolted away. "I-I can't, Britt."

She stood up from her seat and looked sadly down at Brittany, wanting so much to wipe the disappointment away from her otherwise beautiful eyes. "I need to do this right, Brittany. But I'll take care of it, okay?"

Brittany nodded slowly. "Okay."

"I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>23:00<strong>

"Oh, hey… Who's this?" Santana asked, gesturing at the Asian woman in her seat.

Quinn looked up at her. "Hey, Santana. This is Tina." She smiled at the woman. "Tina, this is Santana."

Tina stuck out her hand and smiled. "Hello, nice to meet you."

Santana shook her hand. "You, too." She shifted awkwardly on her feet, watching with a raised eyebrow as Tina inspected Quinn's palm.

As if sensing Santana's confusion, Quinn explained, "Tina's a fortune-teller. She's reading my palm."

"Oh." Santana was never superstitious.

"Yeah," Quinn continued, "we just met a few minutes ago. Tina was just walking past, but she stopped because she felt this energy from me."

Tina nodded. "I could sense that something drastic is going to happen in your life."

Santana narrowed her eyes skeptically, but Quinn only shrugged.

After several minutes of tracing her finger along Quinn's palm, Tina turned to Santana expectantly.

Santana almost rolled her eyes but gave in at last and offered her hand. Tina studied it again, then looked back and forth between Quinn and Santana confusedly.

"Well," Tina finally said, "you are both very blessed in the love department."

Quinn beamed. "Really?"

"Yes," she said. "It's quite rare for people to have already found their soul mates at such a young age."

"We've already found our soul mates?" Quinn glanced over at Santana and widened her eyes.

Tina nodded. "In a setting quite similar to this one, actually," she added, looking around her.

"On a plane, you mean?" Quinn asked.

"Quite possibly."

"Santana and I met on a plane," Quinn gushed. "Right, Santana?"

"Uh, yeah," Santana answered.

Tina tilted her head as she looked between the two women again, as if there were something she couldn't figure out. "Well, good luck to you two," she said, getting up from Santana's seat.

Santana watched Tina walk away, slowly edging back into her seat. She had never believed in fortune-tellers, but what Tina had said struck something inside her.

"You okay?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," Santana said, shaking out of her daze.

"Sorry about earlier," they both blurted out at once.

Santana grinned sheepishly at Quinn.

"Quinn, I love you," Santana confessed.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at Santana, surprised by the sudden heartfelt proclamation.

"And I have a question," Santana added.

"Okay…"

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me?"

"What?" Quinn asked way too loudly. She put the magazine aside and lowered her voice as she noticed the questioning glances coming their way. "Are you…_proposing_ right now, Santana?"

"No!" Santana shook her head quickly.

"Oh, thank God," Quinn sighed in relief, placing a hand over her thudding heart. "You scared me. I mean, I know what Tina just said made it sound like we should be together forever, but—"

"I just want to know. What would you say?"

"You mean, if you asked me right now?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you just saw my reaction, didn't you?" Quinn chuckled nervously. "We're a bit too young for marriage, don't you think?"

"So what would you say exactly?"

Quinn frowned, unsure about Santana's intentions behind the question. "I would say no," she replied honestly.

"Right." Santana nodded, taking no offense at all much to Quinn's surprise, as if she had already expected that answer. "And, say, if I asked you to marry me a few years from now, what then?"

"I don't know," Quinn said. "How am I supposed to know how I'll act in a few years?"

"But think about it," Santana insisted. "Say five years from now, ten years from now, fifteen years from now. When we're 'old' enough to get married, and I proposed, what would you say?"

"Santana, where are you going with this?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know how to!"

"But you _do_, Quinn. Tell me. What would you say?"

"I honestly can't see that far into the future right now."

Santana looked down at her lap, taking a deep breath before she gazed up at Quinn again. "Me neither," she said softly. "But, Quinn, you know what I realized? I realized that you're supposed to be able to see that far into the future…when you're with the right person."

"What?"

"I love you, and I know you love me, too, but I'm not the person you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with."

"Santana, I don't understand. Where is this coming from?"

"I found someone, Quinn. I found someone who I can see that far into the future with. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's real." Santana smiled, despite the pain in her heart as she said these words. Still, she smiled because true love itself was a beautiful thing that should be shared. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I love you, and I have loved you with all my heart for these two years, but there's something even greater out there. To be honest…I want it, and you deserve to have it, too."


	16. Part 2: Chapter 6

**23:15**

Quinn narrowed her eyes and flinched away from Santana. "What the _fuck_, Santana?" she hissed.

"Quinn, listen—"

"Are you _cheating_ on me?"

"No! Not at all." Santana frowned, reaching for Quinn's arm. Somehow, in her head, she had imagined this to be a lot easier.

But Quinn turned away and gazed out the window with hard, stony eyes. She pursed her lips, trying to suppress the emotions boiling inside her.

Just as Santana started to say something, Quinn asked coldly, "It's that flight attendant, isn't it?"

"Brittany," Santana corrected automatically.

"Brittany," Quinn repeated with a dry chuckle. "So what is it?"

"What?"

"Am I not pretty enough for you?" she asked bitterly. "Or are you just tired of me?"

"No, Quinn," Santana sighed, rubbing hopelessly at her temples. "You're plenty pretty for me, and I'm not _tired_ of you—"

"Oh, I get it," Quinn said in a sarcastically sweet voice. "She's a better lay."

"Quinn, please stop."

The fake smile disappeared from Quinn's face, replaced by a malicious grimace that scared even Santana. "You don't get to tell me what to fucking do, Santana."

"I'm not trying to…"

"Just tell me. Where did it happen? We're on a plane, for God's sake."

"Where did what happen?"

"Where did you _fuck_ her?"

Santana took a deep breath to calm herself. She had almost forgotten how pissed off Quinn could make her when Quinn's crazy inner bitch came out. "I told you, Quinn. I didn't cheat on you."

"Stop lying to me, Santana."

"Listen to me, Quinn. I'm not lying."

"Really? Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe your bullshit?"

"I'm telling you the _truth_, Quinn!"

"You're telling me you've never slept with her?" Quinn crossed her arms, challenging Santana to deny it.

"Well—"

"See?" Quinn waved her arms madly in the air. "You fucking cheated, Santana. There's no other way to say it, so stop denying it!"

"Quinn!" Santana grabbed both of Quinn's arms and pulled them down. "Yes, I slept with Brittany, but that was two fucking years ago before we even started dating!"

Quinn's arms went limp on her lap as she gazed back at Santana in defeat.

"Quinn," Santana whispered, "I really thought we had it all. I didn't even realize that Brittany never left my mind."

Quinn's eye twitched, and her lips relaxed into a sigh. Slowly, she slid her arms out of Santana's grasp and got up from her seat.

"Wait—"

"Don't follow me, Santana," she choked. And then she hurried away.

* * *

><p><strong>23:30<strong>

Rachel was on her way to the lounge when she saw Quinn scurry into the bathroom, eyes pink and watery. She quickly followed her but abruptly stopped at the closed door. Was it okay for her to knock? They weren't exactly _friends_, but they were friendly, right?

"Quinn?" she asked. "Are you in there?"

There was no reply except for the sound of the tap being turned off.

Rachel knocked softly. "It's Rachel. Can I come in, Quinn?" She waited, unsure of what to do. She just wanted to make sure that Quinn was okay. Finally, Quinn held the door open, but she turned away from Rachel, hiding her tears.

Rachel slipped in and locked the door behind her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Quinn shook her head and slumped against the wall as another silent teardrop rolled down her face.

Rachel grabbed a tissue and dabbed at Quinn's eye. She knew Quinn was too proud to start sobbing pathetically. "Well, whatever it is, I assure you it will be okay, Quinn."

Quinn smiled briefly, glancing at Rachel's awkward grin. "You really think so, Rach?" She looked into the mirror again and wiped at the corners of her eyes. At least she was still super hot for someone who had just been crying.

Rachel smiled wider, both because Quinn was smiling again and because she just called her "Rach." "Yes, I do." She ran some cold water over a paper towel and began to dab it over Quinn's swollen eyes. "My best friend does this every time I cry," she explained.

Quinn chuckled. "That's nice of her."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed. "She's great at comforting people. If she were here, she would tell you that everything would be fine because you're a beautiful, independent woman, and there's nothing you can't overcome."

Quinn raised an eyebrow and laughed.

"What? It's true."

"Well, I think you're pretty good at comforting people yourself."

"Thank you, Quinn." Rachel blushed and tucked her bangs behind her hair.

"Does your best friend do that after she comforts you?" Quinn teased.

"No," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes. "She usually buys me some ice-cream and listens to Barbra Streisand with me."

"I wish I had a friend like you do," Quinn said with a smirk.

Rachel smiled. "Brittany's pretty great."

Then Quinn's face turned dark.

"You okay, Quinn?" Rachel asked.

"Brittany," she repeated slowly. "The flight attendant."

Rachel nodded warily. "Yeah."

Quinn scoffed. "Santana broke up with me."

"Oh."

"And you know why?"

Rachel cleared her throat. She had a good idea.

"Yeah," Quinn said, bitterness seeping from her tone. "Because of your best friend."

"Quinn, I can promise you, Brittany would never try to hurt you."

"Well, she did!" Quinn yelled.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Rachel whispered. "I am."

And then she held Quinn's hand in her own, and Quinn might have just found out what Santana was talking about.

* * *

><p><strong>23:50<strong>

"Brittany."

Brittany slid the last tray into the trolley and locked it in place. "Santana," she breathed.

"Umm…" Santana scratched at her forehead.

"You don't look so good."

"Yeah, Quinn didn't take this…thing so well."

"Oh."

"You know I care about you, right?"

Brittany nodded. Slowly. Thoughtfully. Did she really _know_ that? This whole thing had been about Santana. Santana's feelings for two different people. Santana leaving one person for someone else. Would she do the same to Brittany when she finds someone better?

"I think I just need to give her time." Santana sighed. "And I know this is so unfair to you…"

Brittany cleared her throat. It _was_ unfair.

Santana winced when she noticed the discomfort across Brittany's face. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I'm so sorry." And then a teardrop fell from her glossy eyes, and her whole body began to shake.

Brittany pulled Santana into her arms and just stayed still. Maybe the tighter she held Santana, the quicker the shudders would stop. But they didn't stop. Santana's body kept shaking, and then Brittany could feel her tears wet her shirt. And Santana kept mumbling into Brittany's shoulder, "Sorry, sorry, sorry…" And Brittany knew it wasn't only to her.

* * *

><p><strong>0:00<strong>

"Hey," Santana whispered.

Quinn sat down. "Hi," she said. She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm fine."

"Quinn, listen—"

"Stop." Quinn sighed. "Santana, I just… I don't really feel like talking to you right now."

"I'm sorry, Quinn, I am."

"Santana, how many times do I have to—" Quinn turned away in the middle of her sentence. Her normally hard exterior was failing her, and she didn't want Santana to see the emotions exploding inside of her.

"You know I'll always love you, right?" Santana paused. But no response came. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met, Quinn. Honestly. And, yeah, it sucks that it didn't work out, but you're beautiful and smart and interesting, and you'll find someone who loves you so much more than I ever can." Santana slumped back into her seat when Quinn kept her head against the window. "You don't have to ever forgive me, Quinn, but I really wish you could one day. You've become very dear to me, and I would hate to lose you."

"Me, too," Quinn whispered. "I don't know what you'll be if not my girlfriend, but I don't want to lose you either."

Santana smiled. She placed her hand on Quinn's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Okay."


	17. Part 2: Chapter 7

**0:30**

"Hey! No cheating!" Holding her palm firmly against the cards, Santana pushed Quinn's wandering hand away as it tried to slip under Santana's.

Quinn giggled and retracted her hand. "Fine, but I'm dying over here." Reluctantly, Quinn took the bigger pile of cards and added it to her growing stack.

"Who's the Queen of Spit now?" Santana singsonged.

Quinn glared at her, and Santana stuck her tongue out. Quinn had almost forgotten about how much _fun_ they had together and that, beyond being lovers or anything else, they were friends.

"Ready for the next round?" Santana said.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Santana rolled her eyes, about to flip over a new card when Brittany approached them with a tray of glasses in her hands. Immediately, the goofy grin on her face transformed into a sincere smile—that smile that only the mere sight of Brittany seemed to draw from her. "Hey, Britt," she said softly.

Brittany tilted her head in confusion, noticing the game of Spit in process and the smiles on Santana's and Quinn's faces. "Hi. Um, water or juice?"

"Please." Santana took a glass of orange juice for herself and looked over at Quinn. "You want anything, Quinn?"

"Water's fine."

Santana reached for another glass of water and handed it to Quinn. Then she looked up at Brittany and grinned. "Thanks, Brittany."

"Yeah, of course. Well, I guess I should go…"

"Um…" Santana reached out for Brittany's arm but hesitated. She glanced at Quinn and slinked back into her seat. "Yeah, I'll see you later."

Brittany looked down at her arm—the arm that Santana didn't touch—and nodded. "Okay."

Santana cringed at the look of disappointment on Brittany's face. She just wanted to get up from her seat and kiss the crap out of Brittany, but she had just gotten things smoothed over with Quinn, and, ugh, life is hard. So, with a little awkward hand wave, Santana turned back to Quinn and forced a smile onto her face. "Where were we?" she asked.

Quinn rolled her eyes because she wasn't stupid, and these two years with Santana have taught Quinn a lot of things about the girl. "We were gonna start a new round."

"Right."

They counted to three and flipped their cards. Quinn beat Santana way too easily.

"Damn it, Fabray." Santana grabbed the bigger pile of cards and straightened them out. "Again."

"Look, Santana, I know you want to talk to her."

"Who?" Santana started lining up her cards.

"Brittany."

Santana paused. "No, I don't."

Quinn raised her eyebrows dubiously.

"I mean, I do, but I don't have to talk to her right now."

"I see the way you look at her, you know. And I've never seen you like that before, not with me or anyone else."

"Quinn, I'm sorry."

"Me, too." Quinn pulled the cards from Santana's hands and slid them back in the case. "Now go get 'em, tiger," she urged her with a bittersweet smile.

Santana bit her lip. That was why she loved Quinn so damn much. She wrapped her arms around Quinn and held on tight. "Thank you."

The smile on Quinn's face faltered for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and hugged Santana back. "Anytime," she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>1:00<strong>

"Brittany Susan Pierce." Santana approached Brittany slowly, with her arms linked shyly behind her back.

"Santana," Brittany replied with a jokingly polite nod.

"I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, are you busy?"

"Well, when am I ever?"

Santana grinned and followed Brittany to a secluded area of the plane.

"So, what's up?" Brittany asked.

"Quinn and I sorted things out…more or less."

"That's great, Santana."

"Yeah."

"And…what about…"

"What about?"

"You know, us?"

Santana reached for Brittany's hand and brushed it with her thumb. "I like you, Britt. A lot."

"I like you a lot, too."

"And I want to be with you."

Brittany giggled.

"Why? Is that funny?" Santana asked with a smirk.

"No, I'm just happy."

"Okay, good. Well, I want to be with you," Santana repeated. "Do you…want to be with me, too?"

Brittany grabbed Santana's other hand and brought it to her lips. "Of course I do. I just think…we should, maybe, take things slow?"

"Oh."

"I mean, what with everything that's happened, I think it'll be better, for the both of us, if we didn't jump into things."

"Yeah." Santana nodded despite the twinge in her heart. "You're right."

Brittany smiled gently at her. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm perfect." Santana smiled back at Brittany, running her fingers along Brittany's knuckles. Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen. "But…I can still do this, right?" She placed the pen in Brittany's hands and offered Brittany her palm.

"You…want my autograph?"

Santana grinned. "Yes. That and your number."

Brittany smirked to herself as she scribbled down her number on Santana's hand.

Then Santana lifted up her other hand. "Just in case."

Chuckling, Brittany wrote her number again. "There you go."

Santana looked back and forth between her palms and grinned. "Great. Now I'll have always you here no matter where you're flying to."

Brittany gazed back at Santana and nodded.

Santana brought her hand to Brittany's face and brushed the pad of her thumb over Brittany's chin. A few seconds of silence passed between them before Santana tilted Brittany's face toward herself and placed a small, soft kiss on her lips. Afterward, she settled back in her seat and furrowed her eyebrows. "Was that too fast?" she asked with concern.

"No, that was perfect."

"I've waited a long time to do that," Santana admitted.

"I've waited a long time for you to do that, too," Brittany said back to her.

Santana glanced at her with a glint in her eyes. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

"I'm not sure fate gave me a choice."

Santana laughed. "Either way, we're here now. That's all that matters."

"That's all that matters," Brittany agreed.

* * *

><p><strong>2:00<strong>

When Brittany strolled by Quinn and Santana's row this time, Santana glanced up from her movie and sent Brittany a wink.

Brittany smiled back at her. Noticing that Quinn was asleep, Brittany prepared to shuffle off only to have Santana grab her by the wrist. "Where are you going?" she whispered.

"To work," Brittany answered with a knowing smile.

Santana took her headphones off. "Take me with you," she said with a smirk.

Brittany shook her head disbelievingly. "I can't."

"Oh, c'mon." Santana poked at her ribs gently, a sly grin still on her face. "No one will notice if you disappear for an hour. Or two."

Brittany narrowed her eyes. "I think you have distracted me enough, Miss."

"Oh, so we're back to calling me 'Miss' now, are we?" Santana teased.

"Well, maybe we are," Brittany retorted, turning her nose up for effect.

Santana snorted. "Alright, then, Miss Hot Flight Attendant."

Brittany smiled at the memory. It was hard to believe that was two years ago. Keeping with the game, Brittany clicked her tongue disapprovingly at Santana and turned away. "I'm sorry, but I have to get back to work."

As Brittany walked away, Santana slipped out of her seat and trailed behind. "Give me a few minutes, will you?"

"Sorry. No can do." A hint of a smile was on Brittany's lips.

"Well, you're not giving me much of a choice here…"

"What do you mean?" Brittany asked, as they continued walking down the aisle into the secluded end of the plane.

"I mean," Santana husked, "you're not giving me much of a choice here." She slammed Brittany against the wall of the plane, her front pressed tightly against Brittany's back.

"Oh," Brittany breathed.

Santana smirked. "Yeah." Her breath tingled against Brittany's neck. She felt Brittany shudder underneath her, and it just excited her all the more. Her lips grazed along Brittany's shoulder as her hand snuck its way to Brittany's front. She splayed her fingers along Brittany's stomach, then trailed her hand back and forth. Slowly, her tongue slipped out of her mouth and dragged along Brittany's neck. "Sweet," she murmured.

Brittany grunted. "As much as I enjoyed this the last time it happened," Brittany whispered, "I have something else in mind."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"And what would that be?"

Brittany reached behind her and ran her hands down Santana's thighs. "Guess."

As Santana threw her head back to enjoy the strength of Brittany's hands, Brittany suddenly turned and pressed her lips into Santana's.

Santana gasped in surprise but loved the way Brittany towered over her, loved the way Brittany held her waist like it was the most delicate thing in the world. "Britt," she panted.

"What?"

"Can you just—"

And then Brittany lifted her up and slipped them both into a vacant bathroom. She locked the door swiftly behind them and turned back to look at Santana. "What?"

Santana's eyes were wide, shocked and ridiculously turned on from the speed of Brittany's actions. She shook her head once to clear her mind and then she flung her arms around Brittany's neck and kissed her. Hard.

Brittany smiled slightly into the kiss before her hand worked on the zipper of Santana's skirt. "I've been wanting to do this for way too long," she whispered.

Santana chuckled. "Have you?" she asked sultrily.

"Mmhmm." Brittany broke from the kiss and settled her lips at Santana's neck. She bit down lightly. "I want to touch you."

Santana's breath caught in her throat. "O-okay."

"Okay?" Brittany pulled away from Santana, her cheeks flushed and the cutest sparkle in her eyes.

"Please," she corrected herself.

Brittany snickered. "Well, if you're begging…"

* * *

><p><strong>2:35<strong>

Santana stole a peek at Brittany as she wiggled into her skirt.

Brittany was washing her hands but noticed away. "What, Santana?" she asked.

Santana quickly averted her gaze. She thought she was being sneaky. "Nothing."

Brittany squinted her eyes. "You were definitely thinking about something."

"You're just…really good with your hands."

Brittany turned away from the sink to properly look at Santana. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," she said with a crooked smile.

Santana grinned. "I more than enjoyed myself."

Brittany tossed the paper towel into the trash, then pulled Santana over to her. "Good." She kissed her again, just a peck this time. As she ran her fingers through Santana's bangs, she sighed quietly. "Why do things always have to be so complicated?"

"I don't know. But I think they don't have to be as complicated as we make them."

"You're right. As always."

Santana laughed lightly at this. She was about to say something witty back, but a soft knock at the door made her jump in place.

"Brittany?" said a muted voice through the door.

Brittany looked curiously at Santana. "Rachel?" she said warily.

"People have been looking for you."

"Oh. Okay. Just give me a second." Brittany frowned guiltily at Santana and quickly straightened out of her uniform. "I should go," she whispered.

Santana nodded. "Okay."

Brittany sent her a fleeting smile and quickly slipped out of the bathroom.

"What, Rachel?" Santana heard through the door.

"Go look for Mike," Rachel hissed back.

"Okay, okay!" came Brittany's voice.

Santana waited another minute before she quietly exited the bathroom herself. Rachel was right there with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Santana lifted her head high, like she wasn't just caught sneaking around. "What?" she snapped.

Rachel frowned at her. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but nothing good came of this last time it happened."

"Mind your own business, Manhands." Santana turned away from Rachel and began to walk back to her seat.

"If you think calling me names is going to scare me away, you're wrong. Brittany's my best friend, whom I care deeply about, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect her."

Santana paused. Slowly, she turned back to Rachel. "I care about Brittany very much, too, so if you're implying otherwise, stop." She made sure to narrow her eyes down at Rachel; it made her feel more powerful that way.

"You care about Brittany?" Rachel asked incredulously. "Oh, please. I know people like you. And I don't trust you one bit. You'll go running the moment anything turns serious."

While normally Santana would have simply walked away from such ridiculousness, she knew there was some truth to Rachel's words, and that's what hit her right in the gut. "You don't know anything," she seethed. "And I'm capable of a committed relationship, thank you very much."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? And how did that turn out?"

At first she was furious. She was ready to physically pounce on Rachel, but then she reminded herself that she was a mature adult who dealt with things maturely. So she gritted her teeth, sent Rachel one last death glare, and stormed away. And then the anger deflated out of her, and Rachel's words echoed in her mind. Was that what happened with Quinn? Was she actually incapable of commitment? Was that what made her leave Quinn for Brittany? She had thought Brittany was the one. But she didn't know anymore. Was she going to do the same thing to Brittany that she did to Quinn? She didn't think she could handle a repeat of that.


End file.
